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I 




JANE' ALLEN: 
JUNIOR 






CONTENTS 




-3 


CHAPTER PAGE 

I The Get-Together ............... 1 

II A Shadow in Forecast . . 12 

III The Misfit Freshman • 22 

IV Thrilong News . ... ... .>. . . . . ... .... 30 

V Threats and Defiance 39 

VI Jane and Judith 47 

VII A Queer Mix-Up 59 

VIII To the Rescue 70 

IX What Happened to Judith i 79 

X The Interlude 88 

XI A Twice Told Tale ...... 98 

XII A Wild Night of It ... ... .... 107 

XIII The Aftermath 119 

XIV Pleading for Time 130 

XV The Picket and the Spook . . .,. . . 144 

XVI The Hidden Chamber . . . ... ..... 157 

XVII ‘‘Behold the Ghost of Lenox 

Hall!’^ ... . .j 168 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGE 

XVIII Faithful Frolic . . 

XIX The Miracle , 188 

XX Touchstone ...... 199 

XXI Cramming Events 212 

XXII Startling Disclosures ...i. . 223 

XXIII The Dance 235 

XXIV King Pin of the Freshies 24!’7 

XXV The Day After the Big Night ... 260 

XXVI A Surprise in Records ...... . . ..., 273 

XXVII The Real Story ... ... 287 


LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 

0 — — 

PAGE 

‘‘Don’t touch it!” whispered Dozia. “It may be 

inhabited!” (see page 165) Frontispiece ‘ 

‘ ‘ Is Miss Stearns here ? ’ ’ asked J ane 70** 

In a moment they were at her side 182 

“I’m SaUy,” she replied, “and this is Shirley”. . . 242 ' 














INTRODUCTION 

'Jane !Axlen, our friend of the gray eyes and 
red-gold hair, made her appearance in the first 
volume of this series as “Jane Allen of the Sub 
Team,” and the inimitable young Freshman 
won immediately a place in the hearts of her 
readers. Her disposition, matching her type, 
sent “rays” of good times all through the first 
year’s record, and the taming of Jane — a Mon- 
Jiana ranch beauty — afforded her chum, Judith 
Steams, no end of lively opportunities. The 
story abounds in such “thrills” as are consistent 
with the environment, but the girl from Mon- 
tana is true to life and irrepressible. 

The second volume, “Jane Allen: Right 
Guard,” has, besides the sequence in her college 
career, that fascinating story of Norma, the 
worthy girl working her way through. Jane 
and her chum manage to offset the opposition in 
their straining for the social line restrictions, and 
in this the stability of American girl character 
wins out gloriously. 


INTRODUCTION 


“Jane Allen: Center,” the third volume, is 
a vigorous story of life at “Wellington,” with 
Jane hailed as center of her group, as well as 
center of the Basketball Team. To win 
this honor our gray-eyed western girl “came 
through” in many exciting encounters. She was 
kidnapped by the Sophs, she was intrigued by 
Dolorez Vincez, the traitorous student, while in 
the little Polish artist, Helka Podonsky, Jane 
discovered a gem, human and at times almost 
divine. 

The Jane Allen series has found an enviable 
place on the bookshelves of discriminating 
readers. 


Jane Allen: 

Junior 


CHAPTER I 

THE GET TOGETHER. 

T he late September day waved back at 
Summer graceful as a child saying 
goodbye with a soft dimply hand; and 
just as fitful were the gleams of warm sunshine 
that lazed through the stately frees on the broad 
campus of Wellington College. It was a brave 
day — Summer defying Nature, swishing her 
silken skirts of transparent iridescence into the 
leaves already trembling before the master hand 
of Autumn, with his brush poised for their fate- 
ful stroke of poisoned beauty; every last bud of 
weed or flower bursting in heroic tribute, and 
every breeze cheering the pageant in that fare- 
well to Summer, 

‘Tf school didn’t start just now,” commented 


2 


JANE ALLEN: 


Norma Travers, ‘T wonder what we would do? 
Everything else seems to stop short.” 

‘T never saw shadows come and go so weirdly 
on any other first day,” added Judith Stearns 
ominously. “I hope it doesn’t mean a sign, as 
Velma Sigbee would put it,” and dark eyed 
Judith waved her arms above her black head to 
ward off the blow. 

“Is it too early to suggest science?” lisped 
Maud Leslie timidly. “I’ve been reading about 
the possible change of climate and its relation to 
the sun’s rays going wild into space. I don’t 
want to start anything, but it might be judicious 
to buy more furs next Summer. Also it might 
justify the premonitory fad.” 

“Don’t you dare,” warned Ted Guthrie, puff- 
ing beneath her prettiest crocheted sweater and 
rolling down from her chosen mound on the 
natural steps of the poplar tree slope. “It’s bad 
enough to think of icy days up here, far, far 
away from the happy laughing world of hot 
chocolate and warm movie seats,” and she rolled 
one more step nearer the boxwood lined path, 
“but to tag on science, and insinuate we are to 
be glazed mummies, ugh!” and the redoubtable 
Ted groaned a grunt that threatened havoc to 
the aforesaid handsome sweater. 


JUNIOR 


3 


“There, there, Teddy dear, don’t take on so,” 
soothed Maud, rescuing the other’s new silver 
pencil that was rapidly sliding further away from 
Ted with the pretty open hand bag. ‘T had 
entirely forgotten how you despise ice sports. 
And you so lovely and fat for falling. You 
should love ’em,” insisted the studious Maud. 

“Being fat isn’t all it’s ” 

“Cracked up to be,” assisted Judith Stearns. 
“I quote freely. That’s one of Tim Jackson’s.” 

“Where have I heard the line before?” 
mimicked Theodosia Dalton, otherwise Dozia the 
Fearless. “It has a chummy tone. All of which 
is as naught to the question. Where is Jane? 
Never knew her to miss the line up here. And 
I even tapped at her door. Judy, where is 
Jane?” demanded Dozia. 

“Am I my chum’s keeper? Can’t Jane attend 
to her own mortal baggage without incurring the 
wrath of the multitude?” and Judith sprang up 
from her spot on the leaf laden lawn. Also she 
cast a glance of apprehension along the path 
where Jane Allen should at least now be seen on 
her way. “Perhaps Jane feels we should for- 
swear this moment of mirth; being juniors and 
stepping aside from all the others. They call it 
the Whisper you know; ’count of the whispering 


4 


JANE ALLEN: 


poplar above/’ with a grandiose wave at the 
innocent tree. “But I would much prefer a 
chuckle, wouldn’t you Ted?” 

“There you go again, or rather also,” flung 
back the stout girl. “I must take all the cracks 
and the chuckles and presently some naive little 
freshie will amble along and ask me if I happen 
to be one of the soap bubbles she just blew off 
her penny pipe,” and the pneumatic cheeks 
puffed out in bubble mockery. 

“Now Teddy dear. Don’t fret. Everyone is 
just jealous because you’re so lovely and comfy 
looking,” appeased Nettie Brocton, the dimple 
girl. “But I really do think this ‘whisper’ is 
awfully childish. Rather makes the strangers 
feel we are whispering about them.” 

“If they only knew!” sighed Ted. “I am the 
usual back-stop for all frivolity. But if it comes 
to giving up this lovely loafing hour under our 
own grandmother poplar, I say girls, go ahead 
and knock, but spare the whisper. I’d die if I 
had to go tramping around seeing things and 
saying hello to that mob,” with a sweeping wave 
of her one free arm, the other was around Janet 
Clarke’s waist. 

“You are right, little girl, it is lovely to gather 
here and let the others do the traipsing. And as 


JUNIOR 


i 


for the whisper, anyone within sight may also 
hear, for this is a shout rather than a whisper. 
The real point is, we are gathered together while 
others are scattered apart. But where is Jane 
Allen? I always look to her to start things, and 
we can’t stay here all day, alluring as is the 
grandmother poplar. We have ‘juties’; girls, 
‘juties’.” Dozia Dalton had risen to her full 
height, which measured more feet and inches than 
her latest kitchen door records verified, and her 
hair now wound around her head like a big brown 
braided coffee cake, added a few more inches, in 
spite of all the flat pinning Dozia took refuge in. 
It may be attractive to be tall and slender, but 
somehow old Dame Nature has a way of keeping 
her pets humble. She loves to exaggerate. 

The girls were grouped around the gnarled 
roots of the big tree. As had been their custom 
this contingent managed to escape the hum and 
confusion of the “first day” just long enough to 
whisper hello and buzz a few unclassified other 
words. Rooms and corridors were in conunotion ; 
the campus was like a bee farm, and it was only 
over in a remote comer, where a poplar and three 
hemlock trees formed a protective fortress, that 
the girls were safe from the fii’st day’s excite- 
ment. 


6 


JANE ALLEN: 


‘‘I left Jane heading for the office and her 
head was down,” announced Inez Wilson finally. 
“She didn’t see me and her head being down, of 
course meant ” 

“Trouble,” finished Katherine Winters. 
“When Jane Allen goes forward with her red 
head in advance there is sure to be a collision. 
What’s up ? Who knows ?’ ’ 

“Come along and find out,” promptly sug- 
gested Winifred Ayres. “Can’t tell what we’re 
missing. Jane may have lifted the roof when she 
raised her head.” 

“Poor old roof,” commented Ted Guthrie, 
dragging Janet Clarke down to earth again in 
her own attempt at rising. “I suppose we may 
as well fall in line,” she continued good-natur- 
edly. “Janie is still the idol of the mob; anyone 
can see that, even at this early date,” and with a 
girl tugging on either side the stout one finally 
heaved ahoy! 

“ ’Tain’t that,” corrected Inez recklessly, “it’s 
just because we are all too lazy to do the things 
we know J ane will do. I have been reading up 
on psychology, and you may now expect me to 
spoil every dream of childhood with a reason 
why,” and Inez threw her head up prophetically. 

‘^Alluring prospects this year,” groaned Velma 


JUNIOR 


7 


Sigsbee. ‘‘What with Maud gone scientific, and 
Inez turned psychologist and Jane Allen travel- 
ing with her head down — ^well, all I can say is 
I still take two lumps of sugar in my tea.” 
Velma was just that way, a pretty girl who loved 
sugar in spite of restrictions, high prices and the 
written word. 

A solitary figure was now outlined against the 
low cedars curled around Linger Lane. It was 
Jane at last. 

“Here she comes! Here she comes!” an- 
nounced Nettie Brocton. “And look, girls! she 
isn’t even whistling. Something is wrong with 
our sunny Jane.” 

There was no mistake about it, something was 
wrong, for Jane Allen swung along the path, 
calling greetings to friends grouped in knots and 
colonies with an evident half heartedness foreign 
to her usual buoyant, cheerful personality. 

Espying her own contingent on the poplar 
slope she threw her arms out in a reckless, boyish 
sort of gesture to give force to the “Hello girls!” 
she called, but even that was much too mild for 
Jane. 

“We were in despair,” began Judith, Jane’s 
particular friend and school-long companion. 
“Janie dear, why the clouds? Wliat’s up? Let 


8 


JANE ALLEN: 


us know the worst, do. We are fortified now, 
whereas in an hour hence we may be weak from 
interviews with the new proctor. Sit down J ane. 
We just rose to go in search of you, and by my 
new watch I see there is still time before the 
hour to report. There,’’ and the little spot 
cleared for Jane in the semi-circle was now 
covered with a pretty plaid skirt, “do tell us. 
You really look worried.” 

“Not really?” contradicted the gray eyed 
Jane. “Worried, and on our very first lovely 
day? You surely wrong me !” she tried to get her 
arms around more girls than even finger tips 
might touch. “I’m simply bubbling with joy, 
as I should be. I was detained in the office long- 
er than I wanted to stay, and you all know how 
mean it is to have to sit on one particular chair 
facing the desk while a lot of new girls ask a 
larger lot of foolish questions. Perhaps that 
made me a little cross, but do forgive me. I 
wouldn’t spoil this initial hour for worlds. Please 
tell me everything in one breath. I am just 
dying to hear.” 

No one answered. Ted Guthrie did gurgle 
a bit, and Velma Sigsbee threw a handful of 
leaves in Nettie Brocton’s hair, but the pause 
was a riot. Why should Jane deceive them? 


JUNIOR 


9 


Cross from delay in the busy office indeed, as if 
she would not have bolted out and left the whole 
room to the nervous new students! The girls 
looked from one to the other and finally Judith 
Steams saved the situation by proposing that 
the juniors line up to help the seniors show new- 
comers about the grounds. On this day at least, 
class lines were forgotten at Wellington. 

“We were just waiting for you Janie,” she 
declared adroitly, “and Mildred Manners has 
been whoo-hooing her lungs out across the cam- 
pus. Come along girls, and see you don’t way- 
lay all the millionaires. I hear every garage in 
the village is bursting with classy cars, and the 
livery stable can’t take another single boarder. 
Ted, you take Velma and Maud, and be careful 
not to divulge any club secrets; Janet, you tag 
along with Winifred and just gush to death over 
that timid little blonde who seems to have a whole 
bag full of hand made handkerchiefs for weeps. 
Jane, may I have the honor of your company?” 

Judith’s black eyes looked into Jane’s gray 
orbs that asked and answered so many ques- 
tions. 

“Thanks, Judy,” said Jane aside. “You’re a 
dear. Let’s go and do the honors.” 

The next moment Wellington grounds rang 


rANE ALLEN: 


To 


with shouts and laughter, and the voice of Jane 
Allen defied the criticism her pretty face had so 
lately invited. 

“It’s perfectly all right,” she assured Judith, 
but the latter stuck her chin out in contradiction. 

“Can’t fool me, Janie,” she whispered between 
handshakes and greetings. “But I’ll wait till 
the picnic winds up. Did you ever see so many 
new girls? Has some college burned down since 
last year?” 

“No, love, but our reputation has gone forth. 
This is a glorious day for Wellington and, Judy 
Steams, it is going to be a glorious year for us. 
We are still juniors!” and Jane trailed off to 
find her place in the long line that was auto- 
matically forming around the great old elm. An 
extension course in special work kept Jane with 
her junior friends. 

“Wellington, dear Wellington!” rang out the 
then famous strain in hundreds of silvery voices. 
The college song was echoed from every hill into 
every grass lined hollow, and if the new girls 
doubted the spirit of comradeship they were to 
be favored with there, the consecration brought it 
home to them, like strong loving arms stretched 
out in the sea of school day mysteries. 

It was hours later, when the pattering of feet 


JUNIOR 


II 


in the long corridors died down to a mere trail 
of sound, that Jane and Judith managed to pair 
off for a confidential chat. 

“You have got to tell me,” demanded Judith. 

“As if I wouldn’t,” replied Jane. 

“You can’t blame us for being curious, Janey. 
This afternoon was almost a failure, just because 
your eyes had a faraway look.” 

“I’m so sorry, really, Jude. What an abom- 
inable temper I must have.” 

“We all know better than that girlie.” Judy 
might now have been charged with harboring a 
faraway look herself. 

“Just give me a little time,” smiled Jane, “and 
if there’s anything on my conscience I’ll gladly 
transfer it to yours.” 

The look in both gray and brown eyes was 
suddenly changed to intimacy. It was no longer 


CHAPTER II 


A SHADOW m FORECAST 

I THOUGHT everyone had been supplied 
with the anti-tack hammer circular,” re- 
marked Jane, falling back where Judith’s 
cushions ought to be. “Just hear that tattoo 
over in the wing. I’ll bet it’s Dozia.” 

“She has a collection of movie queens and I 
doubt not that is the official coronation. Let 
us hope the new proctor is deaf on the left, 
Dozia’s room leans that way,” replied Judith. 
Then she tossed a couple of sweaters at Jane’s 
head. “Put those under your ears dear,” she 
ordered, “my pillows aren’t unpacked yet and 
you may find Neddie’s last year tacks in that 
burlap. There now, you look almost hmnan. 
But the wistful whimper lingers. Jane, what 
has happened? You are simply smothered in the 
soft pedal. Tell your Judy all about it,” she 
cooed. 

Feet stretched out straight in front of her 
and arms ending with finger tips laced over her 


12 


JANE ALLEN: JUNIOR 


13 


black head, Judith looked longer than she really 
needed to measure up or down. Also, she looked 
too stiff to be comfortable, but the wooden pose 
was Judith’s favorite. She rested that way, de- 
fying every known law for relaxation. Jane, 
au contraire, was curled up like a kitten, with 
one red sweater balled under her ruflSed head and 
the other blue one tangled about her slim ankles. 
Both girls were tired — justly so, for the opening 
day at Wellington was ever a time of joyous 
activity, and the day just closed had roared and 
yelled itself into an evening still vibrant with 
bristling energy, tack hammers and movie pic- 
tures smashing rules and regulations, until the 
night gong sounded its irrevocable warningv 
Then roommates paired off even as did Jane 
and Judith. 

“Has anything happened to your baggage?” 
prompted Judith, as her companion failed to 
confide. 

Jane teased one small worsted tassel of 
Judith’s blue sweater free from its tangle with 
her shoe lace, then she poked her dimpled chin 
forward saucily. 

“Can’t ever have a secret, I suppose, Pally 
dear,” she mocked the girl sliding slowly but 
surely out of her chair. “But I don’t mind. 


14 


JANE ALLEN: 


Shows how Jruly you love me. There, you will 
feel better on the rug. I knew you were com- 
ing.” Judith had landed. 

‘T believe I’ll sleep here,” declared Judith, 
one end of the international carpet sample was 
bunched up under her ear. “Never was so tired 
on any other first or last day.” The long legs 
shot out straight again. “And if your secret is 
really thrilling Janie, pray keep it for a more 
auspicious occasion. I am apt to snore when I 

should groan, or even sneeze when I should ” 

A choking spasm interrupted. “Don’t tell me 
to take quinine, Janie. This is the end. I have 
had it since August and it is due to depart now, 
exactly now.” A couple of sneezes added punc- 
tuation to this. 

“But get up from that floor instantly,” 
ordered the girl on the divan. “Nothing worse 
for colds than rag carpet rugs. There’s plenty 
of room up here out of drafts. Come, lovey. 
Do try to curl up some. I always fear you will 
break up in splinters when I see you go wooden.” 

“Too comfy. Dinks, I can’t move.” 

“Sneeze then and I’ll catch you. You have 
just got to get up off that chilly floor somehow. 
Besides the oil may be contagious. It still smells 
gooey.” 


JUNIOR 


11 

“Anything for peace. Give me a lift. There,” 
Judith hung over the edge but Jane held on to 
the black head. “It’s not so safe as the floor but 
I suppose it is more prophylactic. Now I will 
sleep. The girls seem to have died down. 
Strange” — yawn and groan — “how they do love 
to fuss up the rooms.” 

“Temperment, my dear. Dozia wouldn’t sleep 
a wink with her photograph gallery unhung. 
What do you think of the crowd this year? Spot 
any stars?” 

“A couple. Did you see that beauty with the 
shiny gold hair? The one who stood under the 
hemlock alone during the cheering? Isn’t she 
tragically pretty?” 

“Exactly that. One couldn’t help seeing her, 
although she struck me as being shy.” 

“Scared to death, and so unconscious of her 
charms. There Janie, my brain is sound asleep 
this moment. If I say real words they must be 
coming from another world. This is gone.” 
Judith ducked deeper into the pillowless couch. 
She plainly was sleepy. 

“Why Judith Stearns,” called Jane severely, 
“you are giving me as much trouble as a baby. 
Don’t you dare fall asleep. We have got to 
make beds yet. That comes of your notion not 


i6 


JANE ALLEN: 


to have ready-to-wear beds in our suite. And you 
can just see how much fun it is to drag things 
out on tired nights.” Jane sprang up from the 
divan and tried to yank the sleepy girl after her. 
“Come on, Pally,” she implored. “I’ll do most 
all the fixing, only I really demur at the disrob- 
ing. You know my hatred for buttons and fas- 
tenings. I wouldn’t leave one snap to meet its 
partner. Come on Judy,” the feet were again 
on the rug, “we will be simply dead in the morn- 
ing, and we have got to be very much alive. We 
do miss the Weatherbee. I don’t see why we 
let her go. Dear, prim, prompt Weatherbee! 
Now we know we loved her. Her successor is 
too young to be motherly.” 

“Jane Allen, you’re a pest,” groaned Judith. 
“I can’t hear a thing but words, and I suppose 
you are calling me names. Who’s this guy Bed, 
I heard you mention? Lead me to her,” and 
whether the collapse was assumed or real Judith 
rolled over twice and once more stretched out 
on the long runner at Jane’s feet. 

“Have it your own way. Stay there if you 
insist and sneeze your head oif, but I’m going to 
bed,” decided Jane helplessly. 

“That’s the girl. Her name is Bed. I want to 
meet her. Heard so much about her. J ane dear 


JUNIOR 


17 


introduce me, there’s a dar — ^link,” Judith mut- 
tered. 

“Someone is coming and I just hope it is 
Prexy or Proxy. I’ll open the door wide as I 
can,” declared the outraged Jane. 

She stepped over the long girl but even the 
tap on the door did not disturb Judith. 

“It’s I — are you up, Jane?” The voice came 
as the tap subsided. 

“Yes Dozia. Come along in. I can’t get 
Judy to bed. Just look at her!” 

“Poor child,” commiserated Dozia, surveying 
the figure on the fioor very much as a policeman 
looks upon an ambulance case. “We ought to 
help her. Is the day bed translated?” 

“Yes, I got it ready. But Judy won’t un- 
dress,” Jane protested. 

“Why need she? If I ever slept like that I 
would murder a disturber. Just get hold of that 
rug Janie, and we’ll dump her into bed.” 

Judith was actually sleeping when the two 
compassionate friends picked up the rug, ham- 
mock fashion, and proceeded to “dump her into 
bed.” She never moved voluntarily. Judith 
Stearns knew a good thing when it came her 
way, and what could be better than this? 

“She’ll ruin her skirt,” suggested Jane as they 


i8 


JANE ALLEN: 


drew the rug out from under the blue accordion 
pleats. 

“What’s a mere skirt compared with that?” 

Dozia stood aside to admire the unconscious 
Judy, but striking a statuesque pose she caught 
the critical eye of Jane and was rewarded with 
a most complimentary smile. 

“Where did you get that wonderful robe, 
Dozia?” Jane asked. “You simply look like — 
like some notable personage in those soft folds 
and with your hair down. What a pity we must 
make ourselves ugly to be conventional.” 

“Ain’t it now,” mocked Dozia, abusing lan- 
guage to make comedy. She swung the velvet- 
een folds about her and spun around to wind 
them tighter. “Like this? Do I resemble a 
movie queen? That’s what brought me, Janie. 
This nocturnal visit is consequent upon a dis- 
aster. My hammer, the one I put my queens 
up with, fell through the mirror. Silly little 
hammer. You know how this house staff feels 
about breaking looking-glasses.” 

“Yes, spoils the set of course. You are not 
insinuating anyone here might be superstitious? 
I am awfully sorry you broke the mirror. How 
did it happen?” 

“Sissh!” Dozia sibilated, pointing to Judith 


JUNIOR 


19 


who had actually turned over. “Don’t wake her, 
this really is a secret. Girlie,” dragging Jane 
down into a chair, “have you noticed that ugly, 
fat, common country girl, with the wire hair and 
gimlet eyes? Well, she came in, pushed her 
way in really, and squatted down plumb in my 
best Sheraton chair. The size of her!” (This 
with seething indignation.) “I was so provoked 
— why, Jane, what is the matter? You are fright- 
ened or nervous or something. Have you seen 
a ghost anywhere?” broke off Dozia. 

“Oh no, but I am so tired,” Jane edged away 
from the suspector. “After all I do believe 
Judy is sensible, see her slumber.” 

“Jane Allen, you are a fraud,” pronounced 
the girl in the velveteen robe. “You are smoth- 
ering some mystery and I must have stepped on 
the spring,” guessed the inquisitive caller. “Was 
it the tack hammer or the spindle chair or the 
fat girl? Not she, you have had no chance to do 
uplift work yet. Land knows that farmer will 
need your greatest skill, but dear, don’t waste 
it on her# She’s incurable.” 

“Bad as all that?” asked Jane colorlessly. 
“But what happened? You did not try to hit 
her with the hammer I hope?” 

‘T didn’t try to hit her, I did hit her. It fell 


20 


JANE ALLEN: 


accidentally on her fat head and she tossed it 
through the mirror. Now what can a girl do 
in a case like that?” 

The haunted look, so foreign to the face of 
Jane, shaped itself again. 

‘Ts she — did you hurt her?” 

‘T hope so,” dared Dozia. ‘Tt would be a 
charity to send her home. Her name is Shirley 
Duncan and she’s from some country town. But 
Jane, if she gets really horrid, I mean more hor- 
rid than she is now, I want you to stand by me. 
That’s what I came for.” 

“All right Dozia,” said Jane, “but I hope it 
won’t have to go as far as that.” 

“Me too,” responded the carefree Dozia. “But 
there’s no telling what Shirley may do.” 

For some moments after Dozia glided out 
Jane stood there, her gray eyes almost misty. 

“Of all the tragedies !” she was thinking. Then 
with a jerk she pulled herself up. “But I guess 
I can handle it,” she declared finally, and when 
she succeeded in rousing Judith no one would 
have suspected anything new amiss. 

Jane Allen might have worries but they could 
not dominate her. Sunny Jane, with sunny hair 
and gray eyes, was no mope. It would take fight 
to conquer this new condition, she realized, but 


JUNIOR 


21 


Jane could fight, and her dreams on this first 
night back in college were strangely confused 
with school-day battles. 

More than once she awoke with a start, as if 
some danger were impending, and a sense of 
uneasiness possessed her. Each time it seemed 
more difficult to fall back into slumber, and all 
this was new, indeed, to happy Jane. 

“Daddy!” she murmured. “It’s because of 
daddy’s ” 

She was fiuually sound asleep. 


CHAPTER III 


THE MISFIT FRESHMAN 

ES, they were back in college and work 



was waiting. This thought invaded con- 


fused brains and stood out like a cor- 
poral of the guard, shouting orders into lazy ears 
on Wellington campus next morning. 

Jane Allen threw first one slipper and then 
another at Judith Steams’ bed across the room 
from her own. But still Judith’s hand ignored 
the hair brush on the chair at her elbow. 

“Judy,” called Jane, “the warning bell has 
warned. Turn down the corner on that dream 
and wake up.” Each word of this climbed a note 
in tone until the last was almost a shout. Then 
Judith’s hand moved to Jane’s slipper on her 
own (Judith’s) forget-me-nots, the little floral 
pieces that adorned a very dainty garment with 
the embroidery on Judith’s chest — arms and 
neck ignored in the pattern. 

“What say?” she muttered sleepily. 

“Up,” answered Jane. “Ever hear that little 
word before?” 


22 


JANE ALLEN: JUNIOR 


23 


“Yep, pony riding,” drawled Judith. “Up, up, 
one, two, three, go!” and at this Judith sprang 
up with such vigor and volume (in point of 
scope) that she sprang over the neighboring bed 
and swooped down on Jane’s hat box! Her 
black hair now fell fearlessly over the embroid- 
ered forget-me-nots, and her bare feet shot in 
their usual skating strike. 

“Good thing that hat box is the new kind,” 
commented J ane, “but even at that it will hardly 
serve as a divan. Still, I am glad you are up. 
Do you know where you are, Judy Stearns? 
And what you are expected to do today?” 

“All of those things and additional horrors 
are seething through my poor brain,” moaned 
Judith, “but a moment ago I was having a fast 
set of tennis with adorable Jack St. John — 
Sanzie they call him. Have I told you about 
him, Jane darling?” Judith gathered herself and 
her feet up from the black enameled box and 
glided over to her own corner. 

“No, Judy, I do not recall Sanzie,” replied 
Jane, who was already armed with soap and 
towel for the lavatory. “But keep the story. 
I shouldn’t like to get interested in boy tennis 

just now. We must forget ” proclaimed Jane 

in tones so dramatic a poet calendar on the wall 


24 


JANE ALLEN: 


trembled in the vocal waves. “Forget! for — 

get ’’ and Jane was outside the door with a 

sweeping wave of her big fuzzy towel and a 
rather alarming thrust of her fist full of soap. 

“Ye-eah,” groaned Judith, “forget is the 
word, Sanzie and tennis.” She glanced at the 
tiny clock on a shelf of the bracket type. It 
was Jane’s idea the clock should not be cluttered 
with surroundings. 

“Gee-whiz! It is late, and this the first day. 
Glad the others on this corridor are all nice and 
punctual.” 

In bathrobe and slippers Judith soon fol- 
lowed Jane down the long hall. Neither dallied 
long in the plunge, for Judith was wide awake 
now, and presently, after dressing and patting 
herself and belongings into place, she confronted 
Jane with this: 

“I heard Dozia Dalton last night. And I 
know there will be trouble about the farmer girl. 
Jane, tell me, is she the scholarship?” 

“Yes,” almost gasped Jane the irreproachable. 
“And to think that I, in any way, should be re- 
sponsible for bringing her to college!” 

“But you are not, Janie dear,” soothed Judith. 
“That your father should give this college a 
scholarship each year is a noble thing, and how 


JUNIOR 


25 


can you tell who may win it? That girl is — well, 
a bit raw,” she ground her mouth around the 
word, “but we have nothing to do with that. She 
doesn’t belong among the juniors, and just leave 
it to little Judy to steer her off. Don’t go try- 
ing any uplift; just cut her dead and watch her 
wilt. From the ashes there may arise a nice little 
green thing, even if it is of the common garden 
variety of onion. Now Jane, you have got to do 
exactly that. Keep Shirley Duncan on her 
own grounds. Shoo her out of junior haunts.” 

“You are right, Judy. I have been tortured 
with the idea that I would have to play fairy 
godmother to that — that ‘hoodlum.’ Honestly, 
did you ever see so ordinary a girl in Welling- 
ton?” 

“Never. But then she may be a genius. I 
have read such descriptions of them. There’s 
the first breakfast bell. Smile now and disap- 
point the horde. They think you have been 
crossed in love and the old maid depression has 
settled upon you. You acted that way yester- 
day,” teasingly. 

Jane’s laugh pealed out at this. It was like 
ragging a down scale, that rippling crescendo, 
and Judith needed no other assurance of her 
friend’s good humor. 


26 


JANE ALLEN: 


But the day’s tasks left little time for trifles. 
College work is serious and exacting, each day’s 
programme being carefully and even scientific- 
ally marked out to make the round year’s sched- 
ule complete. Jane and Judith, juniors, with a 
reputation made in their previous years, 
“buckled” down to every period with that intel- 
ligence and determination for which both had 
been credited. 

Everything was so delightful and the autumn 
air so full of promise ! Jane could not find a true 
reason for the haunting fear that seemed to fol- 
low her in the person of that crude country 
girl, who somehow had won the Allen scholar- 
ship. 

It was in free time late the next afternoon that 
this fear took definite shape. Jane and her con- 
tingent were leaving the study hall when Shirley 
Duncan brushed up through their arm linked 
line. 

She was garbed in a baronet satin skirt of 
daring hue with an overblouse of variegated 
georgette. This as a school frock! At first 
glance Jane almost recoiled, then the possibility 
of delayed baggage suggested itself and softened 
her frown. 

“Don’t notice her,” whispered faithful Judith. 


JUNIOR 


27 


Jane’s glance just answered when the un- 
popular freshman broke through the line, 
grasped Jane’s hand and deliberately forced a 
folded slip of paper into it. Then, with a mock- 
ing smile that ran into an audible sneer, she 
turned and sped away. Her awkward gait and 
frank romping so close to Wellington Hall 
brought questioning glances from the line of 
juniors. 

“What’s that, Jane Allen?” asked Janet 
Clarke good-naturedly. “I hope you are not 
doing uplift for anything like that this year?” 

“The merry little mountain maid,” mocked 
Inez Wilson, doing a few skips and a couple of 
jumps in demonstration. 

“How on earth did she ever make Welling- 
ton?” demanded the aristocratic Nettie Broc- 
ton, disapproval spoiling her leaky dimples. 

“Girls, you are horrid!” declared Judith to the 
rescue. “You all know the freaks love Jane. It’s 
her angel face,” and Judith playfully stroked 
the cheek into which streaks of bright pink 
threatened admission of guilt — ^that Jane really 
knew the uncouth country girl. 

“She’s a stranger to me,” said Jane truthfully, 
“but in spite of that I must respect her confi- 


28 


JANE ALLEN: 


dence/’ The crumpled note was thereat securely 
tucked into the pocket of Jane’s blouse. 

Winifred Ayres tittered outright, but the ad- 
vent of Dozia Dalton furnished a welcome inter- 
ruption. 

“Girls,” she panted, “what ever do you think? 
Dol Vincez, our dangerous adversary of last 
year, runs the beauty shop beyond our gate! Can 
you comprehend the audacity?” 

“We can when you say Dolorez,” replied Jane. 
“Do you actually mean to say she has set up the 
College Beauty Shop at our very door?” 

“She has!” declared the excited Dozia. “Who 
would dare trust a live and workable phiz to 
that — traitor?” 

“Not I,” said Velma Sigsbee. 

“Nor I,” from Maud Leslie. 

“My face must serve me this term,” added 
Inez Wilson, twisting her features to make sure 
they worked well. 

“All the same,” demurred Judith, “the temp- 
tation is not to be laughed at. Just imagine real 
dimples speared in,” with a finger poked in 
Maud Leslie’s cheek, “and long silky lashes 
tangles in one’s violet gaze ” 

This was too much even for staid juniors and 
the race that followed almost justified Shirley’s 


JUNIOR 


29 


much criticised romp. With this difference: 
Wellington Hall was now out of the shadows 
made by the swaying stream of laughing stu- 
dents darting in and out of the autumn sunshine 
that lay like stripes of panne velvet on the sward, 
but Shirley’s run had begun at the very steps. 

Recreation had its limits and that day was 
counted lost into which a race over the pleasure 
grounds had not been crowded. It might be for 
tennis, or even baseball, or yet to the lake, but 
a run was inevitable. And so they ran. 


CHAPTER IV 


THRILLING NEWS ^ 

D id you read your note, Dinksy?” Judith ) 
asked Jane, using the particular pet j 
name adopted because of its very remote I 
distance from the original. j 

“You know I did. Pally.” This was from Pal, 1 
of course. | 

“A bomb threat?” | 

“Not quite.” Jane’s hair was rebellious this | 
morning and just now received a real cuffing at J 
its owner’s hands. | 

“How perfectly peachy you would look j 
bobbed, Dinksy. That color and those smooth J 
silky curls! How the angels must have loved { 
you. Know this line? 

. 4 : 

“ ‘Methinks some cherub holds thee fair, { 
For kissing down thy sunny hair | 

I find his ringlets tangled there!’ ” , j 

“You would,” interrupted Jane sacrilegiously. ^ 
“More than his ringlets tangled here this morn- | 


rANE ALLEN: JUNIOR 


31 

ing/’ with a final jab of the strongest variety of 
golden bone hair-pin. “Aunt Mary always said 
my mood (she meant temper) affected my hair. 
And I am sure she was always right about it.” 

“Well, you don’t have to tell me about the 
note if you don’t want to, Janie,” pouted Judith. 
“But my idea is, you need counsel and I am as 
ever the expert.” 

“Fair Portia, thou shalt be my counsel ever. 
I had no thought of hiding the little note,” in- 
sisted Jane, “but it is horribly disappointing. 
Wait until I rescue it from the basket. There’s 
always a charm about the original.” 

“Don’t bother, please, Jane,” begged Judith. 
“We are almost late and I hope for a set of ten- 
nis before class. I need it every day to keep off 
the heartbreak. Darlink Sanzie,” she snifiled. 
“To think he will nary again bat a ball in my 
black eye.” 

“Why never again? There are other vaca- 
tions.” 

“But no more Jacks like Sanzie. He is 
unique and has opened a law office by now. Can’t 
you see his stenographer kicking his shapely 
shins as he dictates? They always do that in the 
movies, and Sanzie is so up to date, even as to 
shins. Now, Janie dear, let’s along. En route 


32 


JANE ALLEN: 


you may tell me about the bomb threat. The 
corridors are clear.” 

‘‘She simply wants a chance to talk to me, 
that’s all ” 

“But she can’t have it,” declared Judith. “As 
your counsel I forbid it. Just give that girl a 
chance and she will bind you over, body and 
soul; refined blackmail, you know. Don’t you 
dare answer that note until I dictate the reply,” 
Judith swung her arm around Jane’s waist in 
the most all-embracing manner. “Please, Dink- 
sy,” she almost whispered, “wait until we are 
free this afternoon.” 

Thus they separated; Judith for her tennis and 
Jane for a turn on Bowling Green. 

But Jane had a deeper problem to solve than 
even her chum suspected. There was the broken 
mirror in Dozia’s room and the fact that Dozia 
had actually hit Shirley on the head with a ham- 
mer! 

“A pretty record that — and made on the first 
night in college,” Jane reflected. 

Undoubtedly the freshman’s demand that 
Jane “see her at once” had to do with the out- 
rage. And the interview would be granted, of 
course, that very afternoon unless Judith inter- 
fered. 


JUNIOR 


33 


Incidentally Judith was turning the situation 
over in her own good-natured mind. 

“I would just like to see that gawk get Jane 
wound up in her miseries,” she told herself, while 
J anet Clarke hunted for stray tennis balls in the 
hedge. “Jane is such a dear with sympathy 
that this girl’s very crimes would appeal to her 
— in compassion. No-sir-ree!” She volleyed 
a vicious ball — “Jane will not see the impossible 
Shirley alone just yet.” 

Meanwhile news of Dolorez Vincez’s Beauty 
Shop had spread over the college like a holiday 
notice. Dolorez was the South American girl 
who had been expelled from Wellington the 
previous year because of irregularities in many 
things but particularly in basket ball games. As 
told in the book, “Jane Allen; Center,” this 
young lady was really a teacher of athletics, and 
had been posing as an amateur. Being forced 
to leave college after opening a prohibited 
beauty shop she vowed vengeance, and many of 
the students now felt the Beauty Parlor, opened 
at the very gates of Wellington and widely ad- 
vertised, was about to assume the dangers of a 
golden spider web. 

The girls were fairly quivering with excite- 
ment, when Dozia Dalton, herald of the sensa- 


34 


JANE ALLEN: 


* 


tion, condescended to tell everybody all she 
knew about the whole thing. 

Velma Sigsbee would insist upon interrupting 
with silly questions, such as the price of a bob or 
the possible pain of operating for double dim- 
ples, but eventually Dozia told the story while 
Ted Guthrie held Velma’s hand in a compelling 
grip. It was over on the long low bench by the 
ball field where practice should have been kick- 
ing up a dust. But DoFs Beauty Parlor outrage 
was too delectable to forego even for a final ball 
game. 

“It’s perfectly darling,” confided the idolized 
Dozia (any girl with that story on her person 
would be idolized although Dozia was individu- 
ally popular) . “The place, I mean. It’s fitted 


“Were — you in?” gasped Winifred Ayres. 
“No, of course I was not in,” disdained Dozia. 
“No one who ever knew the trickery of Dolorez 
Vincez would enter that place.” 

“Why?” asked the innocent Nettie Brocton. 

“Would she really do something dreadful ” 

“She would, really,” declared Jane, her tone 
not easy to interpret. “She could turn your 
hair a bright red like mine by mere chemical 
action of her ventilating system.” 


JUNIOR 


35 


> 


“Really!” implored the dimply girl. 

“Pos-i-tive-ly!” declared Jane. “But don’t 
attempt it dear. She would send your dad an 
awful bill for doing a stunt like that. Think of 
the price of hair like mine!” 

That suggestion brought disaster to Jane, for 
Ted Guthrie swayed at the very end of the bench 
and the whole line almost went over backwards. 
It was in Ted’s attempt to punish Jane for her 
vanity that the sudden sweep, like a current in 
physics, jerked feet from the ground and upset 
balance generally. Some seconds elapsed (and 
each was precious) before things again settled 
down, including Velma’s crochet balls, Janet’s 
book, pad, and pencil, Dozia’s small bottle of 
salted peanuts as well as other sundries and 
supplies. 

“Please finish the yarn,” implored Nettie 
Brocton. “Do tell us, Dozia, how the place is 
fitted up.” 

“First tell us, please,” insisted judicial Judith, 
“how do you know how it is fitted up? Does our 
plumber plumb there?” 

During all this nonsense Jane cast many a 
furtive glance along Linger Lane, expecting the 
obnoxious Shirley to loom up large and lanky 
by the way, but as yet she had not darkened the 


3 ^ 


JANE ALLEN: 


shadowy path. If Jane could run off to the 
Rockery, that landmark between freshman and 
later college campus lines, there to meet and 
have done with the demands of her erstwhile 
tormentor. But no, Judith was openly demand- 
ing Jane’s concentration on the bench, and every 
point made by Dozia in her tale of the beauty 
shop Judith flung at Jane in direct challenge 
for stricter attention. She was not going to 
escape if Judith Stearns knew it, and she sur- 
mised the intention. 

It had Anally been told to tingling ears that 
the poisoned beauty shop, as Winifred Ayres, 
the writer, had already dubbed the place, was 
done in wonderful mirrors, and shiny faucets, 
windy wizzing hair fans and electric permanent 
wavers and curlers; and when the full descrip- 
tion had been given, more girls than one sighed, 
groaned and grumbled. 

“To think it has to be taboo,” spoke Ted Guth- 
rie. “Dol was always a wizard, and now thus 
equipped she might have a lovely way of fan- 
ning me thin.” 

“And fattening me nice and fluffy with the 
same fan,” sighed Winifred. 

“My freckles might float away like powder 


JUNIOR 


37 


from the butterfly’s wings,” with a weird flut- 
tering of Dozia’s long arms. 

“But hair!” exclaimed Judith. “Think of 
turning me into a golden blonde with eyes like 
blue-bells under dewiness ” 

“It cannot be! It cannot be!” moaned Dozia. 
“Instead we must raid the place and banish the 
traitor. How about that for stunt night with the 
sophs?” 

“Wonderful!” sang out Juliette De Puy. She 
had listened and waited with a certain reserve 
for which this capable Juliette was famous, but 
now that the story was told she deigned to add 
that one word “wonderful.” Everyone looked 
at her suddenly. 

“And have you tell the sophs,” blurted out 
Nettie Brocton. “Dozia Dalton you have 
spoiled it all. Didn’t you see we had company?” 

“Never noticed the lovely Juliette. Never 
mind Julie, you may tell the crowd all you’ve 
heard,” condescended the redoubtable Dozia. 
“We enjoyed having you and it is perfectly all 
right.” 

“Thanks. Come over to our camp some night 
and I’ll do as much for you. I just came in this 
afternoon, you know, to sub on the ball team.” 

“Instead of which you subbed on the gossip 


38 


JANE ALLEN: JUNIOR 


club,” finished Jane, jumping up, ‘‘I’ve got to 
go back to my room. Don’t let me hurry any- 
one,” she said indifferently. Then, just as a 
strange figure turned from the big boxwood 
bumper into the lane, Jane escaped. 

She hurried to meet Shirley Duncan. 


CHAPTER iVi 


THKEATS AND DEFIANCE 

T he girl approaching was not so easy 
to appraise as her unusual costume pro- 
claimed her to be. Jane realized this; 
country girls are apt to make such mistakes, and 
even dinner gown tags on school day togs would 
hardly be proof positive of inferiority, Jane re- 
flected. 

Shirley Duncan swung along with a careless 
stride, but even the pose might cover embarrass- 
ment. Jane sent a welcome smile out to meet 
her and the stranger jerked her head rather 
saucily in recognition. 

“Have I kept you waiting?” asked Jane in the 
best of humor. 

“Well, rather,” replied the freshman, “but I 
knew better than to break in on that crowd,” 
with an arm sweep toward the ball field. “Can 
we go up to your room for a few minutes?” 

Jane thought quickly. To go to her room 
might mean an interruption from Judith; also 
39 


40 


JANE ALLEN: 


it might mean the danger from an undisciplined 
voice. 

“I have been indoors so much today/' she re- 
plied, “and our lovely days are flying so, suppose 
we go over to the rose summer house? We won't 
be interrupted there and we will both have the 
benefit of a longer time out of doors. I suppose 
you feel it, freshmen usually do." They were 
moving toward the rustic house that looked rath- 
er desolate in its coat of faded rose leaves. 

“Oh, freshmen feel everything, I suppose," re- 
plied the other, “but I can’t see why we should 
be openly abused for all that. I heard there was 
no more hazing allowed in colleges?" 

“We have never hazed at Wellington,” Jane 
said rather indignantly, “and Miss — Miss Dun- 
can, I am sure no one will ever attempt the least 
abuse even in a spirit of fun at this college." 

“They won't, eh?" type broke out in that chal- 
lenge. “Well, that is just what I wanted to see 
you about. I suppose I’m not good enough to 
go to your rooms." Lip curled, nostrils quiv- 
ered and head jerked up impertinently with that 
accusation. 

“Why, Miss Duncan " floundered Jane. 

“Why don’t you call me Shirley? Isn't that a 
swell enough name?" interrupted the other. 


JUNIOR 


41 


Jane dropped down on the summer house seat 
with a thud. Here was a problem surely. An- 
tagonism fairly blazed in the girl’s dark eyes. 
Yet she was a stranger — actually Jane’s guest. 

“Shirley is a very sweet name and I have al- 
ways loved it,” replied Jane frankly. “But my 
dear young lady, we must not quarrel. We shall 
never get acquainted that way.” 

“Oh no, the juniors may do all the quarreling. 
We f reshies must just turn the other cheek of 
course. But I suppose you know that long lanky 
friend of yours, they call some foolish name like 
Doses, hit me on the head with her hammer the 
other night?” 

“You mean Dozia Dalton — ^yes, she told me 
her hammer slipped ” 

“Slipped indeed!” more scorn and lip curling. 
“She deliberately dropped it on my head ” 

“And you threw it at the mirror,” broke out 
Jane, weary of acting the angel without gaining 
the slightest return from this rude girl. 

“Yes, I broke it and I’m glad of it! Now 
what are you going to do about it?” Two hands 
not really pretty, dug deep into the satin skirt 
pockets, and Shirley Duncan towered over Jane 
Allen defiantly. 

“What am I going to do about if?” repeated 


42 


JANE ALLEN: 


Jane. But the irony was lost on her companion. 
“You did not ask to see me just to be offen- 
sive?” parried Jane. 

“No indeed, I wanted to remind you I am in 
this college because your father gave a scholar- 
ship, and I suppose that would mean you might 
be nice to me at least.” 

“I’m sure I want to be,” Jane quickly toned 
down. “But no girl can make friends with an- 
other when she insists on quarreling. I am will- 
ing to pay for the broken mirror ” 

“You don’t need to trouble yourself; if it is 
to be paid for I’ll do it myself. My folks 
wouldn’t let me — sponge on anybody.” 

“Sponge,” repeated Jane, frowning with 
something like disgust. “Please don’t use such 
horrible slang.” 

“Oh my! I suppose a scholarship girl must 
be a mouse or a kitten. Well, when I took it I 
understood no one in Wellington was to know 
about it and that the scholarship girl had equal 
rights with every other girl.” 

“So she has and no one here does know who 
wins the scholarship.” Somehow Jane stumbled 
over the word. It was fraught with terror in the 
hands of this impossible creature. 

“Well, I don’t believe it” (no regard for 


JUNIOR 


43 


Jane’s veracity), “but I’ll hold on awhile and 
see.” (Condescending, thought Jane.) “My 
folks always wanted me to go to college and I 
just came to satisfy them. I don’t give a snap 
for all the high brow stuff and I might as well 
tell you I am nearly dead with homesickness.” 
(She didn’t look it, Jane observed.) “But I’m 
no quitter, so I intend to stick. Now let’s get 
back to the girl who hit me. Can you make her 
apologize?” 

“No,” said Jane flatly, “and what’s more I 
have no intention of trying to. You brought 
trouble on yourself by going into Dozia’s room 
without being invited. You should know that 
the younger girls, the freslimen, are not sup- 
posed to take such privileges. Then when you 
annoyed my friend” (Jane almost kissed the 
word) “she told you outright she was busy and 
did not want to be bothered. Next thing, you 
deliberately sat under her stepladder. Do you 
like to get in the open path of tack hammers?” 

“Love to,” sneered Shirley. “And I’m crazy 
about playing ball with them when mirrors are 
up for back stops. All right, go ahead, as far as 
you like. I believe now what I heard about the 
J ane Allen crowd. A lot of goody goodies, too 
stuck up to bother with country girls.” Jane 


44 


JANE ALLEN: 


jumped from her seat and gasped at an inter- 
ruption but did not succeed in sustaining it. “But 
I’ve got friends around here who know the ropes. 
They are not freshies either, so don’t bother 
about me, Miss Allen. I’ll see about the looking- 
glass and the girl who hit me with her hammer.” 

Jane let her go, was actually glad to see the 
last of the satin skirt as it swished out into the 
winding path, nor did she immediately follow it. 
Instead she sat there, tearing little red rose hips 
from the tenacious vines and tossing them away 
regardless of their artistic value as decorative 
winter berries. 

“Tragic,” she muttered, “positively tragic. 
And that is what my darling dad wasted a per- 
fectly good scholarship on.” Thoughts of “dad” 
mercifully intervened and saved the girl’s tem- 
per further violence. “But what puzzles me is 
how that girl ever won the scholarship?” Jane 
silently questioned, and in that unspoken sen- 
tence she unconsciously shaped the key to fit 
the mystery. 

How did this girl win the scholarship? For 
some moments longer Jane sat there. She went 
over again the incident of Dozia’s tack hammer. 
That she could depend absolutely on Dozia, and 
knew this strange girl had done more than sit in 


JUNIOR 


45 


the path of the showering tack hammer was irre- 
futable, 

‘‘Dozia was a little bit reckless of course,” ad- 
mitted the mentor, “and she did seem to coddle 
the fact that her hammer fell on Shirley’s head. 
I recall she even said she was glad it hit her and 
hoped the blow would send the freshie home to 
her ‘maw.’ ” 

J ane wanted to laugh but she refrained. There 
was a strange proctor in office this year to be 
considered. If dear old Miss Weatherbee were 
still in charge it might be much easier to explain 
the accident. 

“And that girl defied me with a threat of 
friends! She has friends who are not in the 
freshman ranks? I remember she said that. 
Who can they be? My enemies naturally,” de- 
cided Jane. 

How these enemies would fill that foolish head 
with nonsense, and how far they might urge her 
on to mischief if not to actual danger, Jane 
Allen did not venture to estimate, 

“But Dozia tried first shot to send her home 
to her ‘maw!’” 

The humor of the situation now struck Jane 
like a blow on the funny bone, and she burst out 
laughing in the very face of the thorny rose bush. 


46 


JANE ALLEN: JUNIOR 


‘‘After all it is too delicious !” she told herself. 
“And even if she is my dad’s scholarship girl 
there’s a heap of fun in the ridiculous situation. 
I’ll find Judy and tell her the whole thing. Too 
good to keep; too funny to spoil,” and the blue 
serge skirt that fanned the boxwood a moment 
later never swished a swish. Jane did not give 
it time to do so. 


CHAPTER VI 


JANE AND JUDITH 

O H, do tell me, Janie. I was watching be- 
hind the big elm the whole time. 
Couldn’t hear a word of course, but I 
could have seen any attempt at violence. That 
girl, I tell you, is no ordinary ‘critter.’ I fully 
expected she would draw something from that 
broad satin belt. But do tell? What was it all 
about?” 

“Thank you for the chance, Judy, I was Just 
wondering when you would take breath. It is 
funny — so funny I am laughing all over,” and 
the gray eyes sent out sparks of mirth, as a senior 
might have put it. 

“Isn’t it!” howled Judith, pegging a pillow at 
Jane’s head to keep the fun a-going or the “pot 
a-boiling” as you will. 

“I don’t know where to begin J udy. At first 
I was sort of awe-stricken. Considering the han- 
dicaps poor Shirley has loaded herself up 
with ” 


47 


48 


JANE ALLEN: 


“Including the name. Have you analyzed 
that?’’ 

“Yes, love, I have. Some maiden aunt with a 
paper covered library must have inflicted her 
with that. It doesn’t suit at all, although she 
seems very proud of it.” 

“And no chance of her growing into it either. 
Like a chauffeur named Claude or Clarence. 
Her last name now would be much snappier for 
her. Duncan makes a topping Dunny,” sug- 
gested Judith. 

“But the girl would never believe that,” sighed 
Jane. “She asked me to call her Shirley and I 
tried to; now, Judith, listen. Here are a few 
difficult facts. Shirley Duncan is bound to fight. 
She has been brought up in the school of affec- 
tionate antagonism, and with her it is a case of 
getting the best of everyone and everything. I 
did not say getting the better, I mean best.” 

“I savvy, as our old friend cow-boy Pedro 
would say. Have you heard from home lately. 
Dinks?” 

“Yes, Judith. All well and lonely. But please 
concentrate. This matter is serious. Shirley 
threatened me with friends — says she has friends 
here who are not freshies. Can you guess who 
they may be?’^ 


JUNIOR 


49 


“Never saw a girl speak to her a second time 
unless she, Shirley, stepped on the other’s toes or 
knocked her hat off. Then the conversation was 
naturally brief and snappy. It happened to 
Mabel.” 

“I can’t imagine whom she means, but they are 
somewhere ready to pounce on us, so let us be- 
ware. Next point is; she seems to have money; 
offered to pay for the broken mirror. In fact 
she sort of lorded it over me.” 

“Dozia should strike for a new vanity dresser. 
One with three side glasses big enough to reflect 
her wonderful, long flowing locks. A rare chance 
for Dozia.” 

“But how could a girl coming in on scholar- 
ship have money to squander?” reflected Jane. 

“That maiden aunt with the paper covered 
novels would love good looking-glasses. It 
might be the salvation of this Shirley girl, if she 
did have access to a true mirror.” 

Judith snapped the top on her fountain pen 
and slammed shut her note-book. Indifferent 
work was worse than none, she seemed to have 
decided. 

“Had you finished your Lat? Isn’t it awful 
to have to work off a condition? Please don’t 


?o 


JANE ALLEN: 


let me bother you ever, Jude, when you have that 
task on hand,” said Jane seriously. 

“I have and it is, if you kept your two ques- 
tions properly tabulated. You see I am strain- 
ing for mental stuff. I want to improve the old 
condition of forgetfulness. That was what 
knocked friend Virgil, or was it Cicero? I loved 
the stories and forgot the period. But I am fin- 
ished for this evening, dear, and you know we 
have some initiation stunts to take part in. I am 
glad they are so simple. It seems to me each 
year the nonsense gets more rational.” 

‘Tt really does, and I think, as you do, that 
shows progress. We can all enjoy better fun 
than that of afflicting the innocent. Of course 
we still have to have some ceremony or the young 
’uns wouldn’t think they were really in college. 
I just wonder how it will strike our rebel 
Shirley?” 

“That interests me too, Dinksy. Let’s go and 
see. We have some lovely little babes this year. 
That ivory blonde, the timid one with a most 
atrocious name, Sarah Something, I just love 
her, don’t you?” 

“Sarah Howland, I saw Inez marking her 
card. Yes, she is sweet in spite of her name. 
Rather a pity sponsors cannot show, discrimina- 


JUNIOR 


51 


tion. Here is your sweater. Better take it; the 
wind whistles. I’ll pull my riding cap down as a 
disguise. It takes in most of this — ^wig,” Jane 
was struggling to stuff her bright tresses into 
the pocket of her black velvet jockey cap. The 
effect towered like a real English derby and 
Judith danced in delight. 

‘T’U try that with my tarn,” she declared. 
“One’s hair is always the surest give-away. Here 
are the masks — hanging neatly on the nail of 
last year’s tenants. I call that thoughtful.” 

Mysterious calls and whistles were now creep- 
ing in under doorways and through transoms. 
The sophs were ready to initiate the frightened 
little freshmen. Tales of “they will do this and 
they won’t do that” had little effect on the indi- 
vidual candidate, but served to keep up the col- 
lective nerve by way of distraction. 

“If they hold us under the pump I’ll be glad 
of it,” sang out Shirley the Rebel. “Haven’t 
had a decent drink of water since I left home, 
and I suppose the pump has a spring.” 

“And it’s warm enough to enjoy a dip in the 
lake if they abduct us in canoes,” added Jessie 
Whitely. “I’m almost suffocated in this big 
thing,” with an impatient jerk at the criminal’s 
black robe. 


JANE ALLEN: 


“Say your prayers, say your prayers!” 
chanted another of the group, seconded by moans 
and groans. They were waiting like prisoners 
jammed into the gym lobby, and a guard of 
sophs patrolled the entrance. 

Noticeable in the assemblage was little Sarah 
Howland — noticeable because she sat on a win- 
dow sill all alone and dangled her feet content- 
edly. She actually appeared to be enjoying the 
prospect of being “roughed.” Shirley was noisy 
as usual, and for once her raillery seemed appro- 
priate. The more timid girls had taken shelter 
about her, as if expecting she would easily and 
even gaily vanquish the attacking foe. 

Friends had the strong girl now if never be- 
fore, and she fairly expanded under the com- 
pliment. She would show the sophs what coun- 
try training did for a girl in the way of self -pro- 
tection, and a few stories of real or fancied bat- 
tles at High School (no town mentioned) also 
served to thrill her audience until Shirley came 
near being popular for the once. 

“Of course we shall have to do foolish things,” 
mused Eleanor Meed, “but I won’t mind as long 
as I am not forced to eat something I hate or 
drink vinegar ” 

“Don’t worry on that score,” spoke up Marie 


JUNIOR 


53 


Coeyman. “Nothing like that is apt to be at- 
tempted. I heard some of the sophs say ” 

“Because they knew you were listening,” dis- 
cerned another. “Don’t take any stock in what 
you overheard. They are apt to do directly con- 
trary to loudly whispered plans.” 

“But whatever it is to be, I do wish they would 
get at it and let’s have it over,” growled Shirley. 

“It’s no fun being cooped up here ” 

“Hush, don’t let the guards hear you com- 
plaining,” cautioned Marie. “It’s like a trial, 
you get more for contempt of court if you don’t 
accept your sentence gracefully.” 

The shuffling of many feet along the stone 
walk put an end to further speculation. 

“Here they come! Here they come!” went a 
tremor through the crowd of candidates, and 
when the doors were thrown open a masked com- 
mittee confronted them. 

Orders, all kinds and volumes of them, poured 
in quickly as tag numbers could be singled out. 
Some were taken in little groups of four “out- 
side to cool off.” Others were commanded to 
hop around in circles, while still more were 
given such individual commands as seemed most 
antagonistic to their particular propensities. 
Shirley was still unmolested. She stood 


^4 


JANE ALLEN: 


bravely awaiting her turn, now and then flinging 
out a wild arm to make sure its muscles were in 
good shape for the fray. 

Finally someone (we hope it was not Judith) 
called her number — sixty-eight, and she sprang 
to the chalk line with what is usually termed 
alacrity, but it really sounded much more 
ominous. 

“Does your head hurt?” asked the voice, and 
Shirley nodded. She thought that might be 
safest. 

“What hit you?” went on the prosecutor. 

“A hammer!” responded Shirley. 

“A nice hard tack hammer?” came the query 
again. 

“Lovely,” spoke the bewildered girl. 

“What did you do with it?” asked the in- 
quisitor. 

There was no response. The Rebel was get- 
ting indignant. 

“Quick,” demanded a second member “of the 
firing squad.” 

“I threw it away,” faltered sixty-eight. 

“What did it hit?” 

“A looking-glass.” This reply came quickly 
enough. 

“And the glass smashed?” 


JUNIOR 


'55 


“Yes—’’ 

“Yes, madam,” prompted a guard. 

“Yes, madam,” repeated Shirley with a quiver. 

“For which show of temper you are to dust 
that room every day for a full week, and you 
may come along now and get your first lesson.” 

Shirley straightened up defiantly. 

“Go on! Go on!” begged the little freshman 
recognized as the pretty Sarah Howland. “Hur- 
ry or they will make it worse.” 

The leader marched out and Shirley followed. 
Those who had heard the sentence realized the 
misery it inflicted that the strongest girl should 
be denied the pump, the lake, tree climbing and 
even boxing possible or gym work, for a mean 
little contemptible stunt like dusting Dozia’s 
room! 

Arrived at the room someone stuck something 
on Shirley’s nose. She attempted to brush it 
off but was warned not to do so. Presently she 
realized it was a feather, and it seemed to stick 
in glue on the very point of her nose ! 

We will spare the reader an account of Shir- 
ley’s agony as she vainly tried to “dust” with 
that feather on her nose. It was too humiliating, 
but a freshman should not have shown such 


JANE ALLEN: 


it 

temper, and there was still the cracked mirror 
to accuse her! 

Every piece of furniture in the room had to 
be “dusted,” that is it was brushed with the evil 
feather, which somehow or other did stay on the 
candidate’s nose; and if the spectators clapped 
and laughed Shirley could scarcely blame them, 
for Dozia Dalton had a foolish lot of truck to 
be dusted. More than once she halted, but was 
promptly prodded on until finally the humiliat- 
ing task had been accomplished. 

“Good girl!” called out a voice from behind a 
mask and Judith quickly stepped up to take off 
the duster. Juniors favor the freshman in spite 
of such conditions. 

“O — uch!” protested the culprit. “It is hard!” 

“Wait a minute!” cautioned Jane’s voice. 
“This will remove it. Sit down, sixty-eight.” 

The unhappy candidate fell into a chair, while 
someone applied the alcohol cloth and presently 
the tiny feather fell with its bit of sticky felt into 
the palm awaiting to catch it. 

“Keep your hands down,” insisted someone, 
for Shirley never knew before the glory of a 
free nose and she just wanted to pet it a little. 
But her tormentors intended to fix up any dam- 
age they might have inadvertently perpetrated 


JUNIOR 


11 

on the feature, and what coating didn’t come off 
with the alcohol was quickly covered with Dozia’s 
powder, until the freshman was made to look even 
better than nature had intended she should. 

This fixing up was almost as hateful to Shir- 
ley as was the abominable dusting, but she kept 
her temper — the lesson seemed profitable al- 
ready, 

Jane was arranging the disordered hair, and 
as she attempted to stroke it with a wet brush 
Shirley put up a detaining hand. 

“Please don’t wet it,” she begged in a whisper, 
and Jane stopped short with her brush raised for 
action. 

“Not wet it?” she thought quickly. “That 
must mean treatment, and treatment meant the 
forbidden beauty shop!” 

This girl had been visiting that shop. More 
danger ahead, decided Jane, as she lay down the 
brush and proceeded to finish the dressing dry. 

Judith had overheard the request and pinched 
Jane’s arm to admit it, but a loud demand for the 
freshman from the group rounding up candi- 
dates saved further delay and when Shirley left 
Dozia’s room the latter patted her affectionately. 

“Don’t worry, dear,” said Dozia, “I’ll be care- 
ful not to raise too much dust next week.” 


^JANE ALLEN: JUNIOR 


= 

But her sentence was not the most serious 
thing in prospect for the rebel Shirley Duncan. 
Not even the good times prepared for the candi- 
dates served to allay the dread she struggled 
against, and only her natural delight in the rol- 
licking fun, and the really fine spread served 
them by the juniors, helped bring the girl back 
to a happy frame of mind. 

Woe unto the freshie who shows ill will at an 
initiation! 

She may be obliged to walk in the gutter for 
the full first half year, or wear a baby blue rib- 
bon under her chin! 

But Shirley had heeded the warnings. 


CHAPTER VII 


A QUEER MIX-UP 

J ANE, the girls are frightened to death. Can 
you imagine ghost stories having that effect 
in this staid, solid, absolutely reliable old 
college?” asked Maud Leslie. 

“It is absurd,” admitted Jane, “but Maudie, 
all students are not scientifically inclined as you 
are. What about the ghost? Who is he and who 
saw him?” 

“He is the usually uncanny weird noise, 
nothing even original about him. One would ex- 
pect more of a college ghost. And just as trite 
and commonplace is the fact that these noctur- 
nal howls come at safe hours when we cannot be 
expected to go through a fire or panic drill. I 
call the whole thing disgusting.” 

“So do I,” assented Jane. “But don’t worry, 
Maud. If there is one line of action I like bet- 
ter than another it is that of laying ghosts. 
Whizz, whack, bang! I’ll make the bones rattle 
if they come my way.” 

Jane was punching a bag in the gym when 
59 


6o 


JANE ALLEN: 


Maud unfolded the story of the ghost scare. It 
was not really news, for Wellington had been 
buzzing the spirit’s ears for days and not until 
some of the younger students appealed to the 
older girls did Jane and other juniors give heed 
to the fear epidemic. 

‘‘I’m glad you’re still a junior, Jane,” com- 
mented Maud, taking breath after vaulting a 
horse or two. “We should never dare to bring 
such trivial troubles to you were you a senior.” 

“And I’m glad to be a junior still,” replied 
Jane. “Judith and I decided on this extra year 
to specialize. But even were I a senior, Maud, 
I would be happy to hear your heartbreaks,” 
with a twist of her mouth that took care of the 
paradox. 

“Thanks a lot.” Blanco, the wooden horse 
painted white on a former “sorority spree,” was 
cleared by Maud the scientific, and she came up 
to Jane, a question in the sudden jerk of her 
bobbed head. “Jane, will you help us organize 
a ghost raid? We cannot have the f reshies all 
scared blue by someone’s nonsense, and Dozia, 
Inez, Winifred and I have done all we could in 
the way of investigation. That’s a trick ghost, 
Jane, I am convinced of that much, and it will 
take a double trick to lay it.” 


JUNIOR 


6i 


“Certainly I’ll organize a raid squad, Maud. 
I’d love to lead the charge myself. Do we have 
outposts, and pickets, and — ^trench companies? 
Or would a bathrobe drill answer as well?” 

“Jane, I am serious,” Maud pouted. “I tell 
you some of the girls are asking to have their 
quarters changed, and if all were given transfers 
I am sure Lenox Hall would be abandoned to 
the ghost. Rather shabby of him to choose the 
babes’ quarters.” 

“Spooks are cowardly as a rule,” replied Jane. 
“And Maudie dear, I realize you are serious. 
But I can hardly organize a raiding squad in- 
stanter. I must at least have time to round up 
a few reliable girls. No use going after the 
‘sperit’ with a band of cowards. You know your- 
self what fun that would be for his spookship.” 

“Oh yes, of course, Jane. I did not mean to 
be impatient, but the girls just begged me to 
enlist your leadership. You have always been 
such a — successful leader.” 

“Thanks again, girlie. But failure is sure to 
come to him who tries once too often. Not that 
I should mind failure, except for the sake of 
those excited children. Really I hate to think how 
the ghost will feel when we get through rattling 
his bones.” A sudden dash at a pair of ceiling 


62 


JANE ALLEN: 


rings set the whole line danghng along the gym 
and served to illustrate a possible way of rattling 
spectral dry bones, although Jane’s graceful 
figure, as she swung to and fro, did much to 
soften the effect. 

“When can we make the raid?” persisted 
Maud. “I have promised to bring a definite an- 
swer.” 

Jane dropped to the mattress and sat with 
hands clasped over her knees. “Is this ghost a 
person of regular habits? Does he take exercise 
every night?” 

“The noise was perfectly dreadful last night, 
and Velma Sigsbee was visiting Lenox night be- 
fore and she almost went into hysterics when the 
rattling began. You know what Velma is for 
signs. Won’t wear a thing green and all that.” 

“And I suppose she attempts to explain it all 
on purely reasonable grounds of modern thought. 
The brand that credits the dead with all power, 
and limits the living with a very flexible and con- 
venient practical faith. The two work together 
beautifully, of course, for what we can’t under- 
stand we must put down to faith, and what we 
want to believe we are inspired to by our friends 
on the other side. Dovetails perfectly, sort of 
a fidHe de convenance. Well, Maudie, you may 


JUNIOR 


63 


tell the babes that we juniors, their natural 
guardians, will take care of his ghostship if pos- 
sible this very night; if not tonight then tomor- 
row at M. I suppose midnight is the time of 
clangs and rattles?’’ 

‘‘Yes, the girls say it is always midnight. And 
I just want to say, Jane, that the big country 
girl, Shirley Duncan, is the only one not terri- 
fied. But I suppose country girls are accustomed 
to wild things.” Everyone seemed loath to add 
further criticism to Shirley’s rather unenviable 
reputation. 

“Oh yes; haunted wells and spooky attics, to 
say nothing of barnyard ‘sperits’ that roam about 
to scare the cows into giving buttermilk and 
cream cheese,” replied Jane. “It might just 

be ” she hesitated, then jumped to her feet 

with a little gleeful bounce — “it might be a ghost 
from Shirley’s own home town. Strange we 
never had one at Wellington before.” 

“Velma said something like that,” admitted 
Maud. “She said Shirley was so — so antagonis- 
tic that her nresence here might disturb some 
friendly communication, and ” 

Jane’s laugh finished the hypothesis. 

“How delicious of Velma!” she exclaimed. 
“But we must be careful not to bring any more 


64 


JANE ALLEN: 


trouble upon poor Shirley. She’s only a fresh- 
man and has apparently enjoyed few home op- 
portunities,” finished Jane. 

“But why does she tell the girls such horribly 
weird stories?” objected the scientific Maud. 
“She seems to delight in getting an audience 
for the wildest sort of yarns. And just now 
naturally they go to the youngsters’ heads. 
Honestly, Janie, no less than three freshmen have 
begged me to crowd into their quarters tonight. 
They seem to think a soph might keep off this 
animated Jinks.” 

“I can just imagine Shirley telling country 
ghost stories,” refiected Jane, “and I agree with 
you, dear child, she is very inopportune with 
them, but it would be worse than useless for me 
to attempt to interfere. In fact, I think if I 
did so she would take up Irish Folk Lore to 
keep stories going. Running out of ghosts she 
might fall back on fairies. She really seems the 
queerest girl we have had in a long time.” 

“Except Dolorez Vincez, she was still more 
curious,” recalled Maud, referring to the South 
American character in Jane Allen: Center, who 
still kept within the shadow of Wellington by 
now running that protested beauty shop just 
outside the college gates. 


JUNIOR 


65 


“But Dol is something of a foreigner, while 
Shirley seems to be all American,” replied Jane. 
“Just fancy Americanizing an American born 
and bred! But this Shirley girl surely needs 
some sort of treatment. Her week of dusting 
Dozia’s room is up today. I hope the lesson 
brought down her hoity-toity a peg or two. There 
come the girls from the village. Be prepared 
for more ghost stories for I see Ted Guthrie 
gasping, even at this distance. And behold the 
windmills — ^Dozia’s arm! Something very excit- 
ing must have happened.” 

“Jane! Jane!” shouted Janet Clarke, the ad- 
vance guard of the line of girls marching in from 
the village. “Oh, you missed it! Hello, Maud,” 
seeing Jane’s companion. “You girls will stick 
around a stuffy old gym, will you? Well, then, 
you have got to miss things. Come on in, chil- 
dren, and watch Jane’s hair shoot sparks. Inez, 
you take the first two paragraphs while I get 
my breath, and, Winifred, don’t forget those 
adjectives you hit me with under the oaks.” 

“Do tell?” begged Jane. “Whatever has hap- 
pened and where is Judith?” 

“Arrested!” gasped Inez. 

“What? What are you talking about?” de- 


66 


JANE ALLEN: 


manded Jane. The girls really seemed fright- 
ened. 

“,Yes — she is gone — ^gone with an officer,” 
panted Inez, 

“There, you have had your two paragraphs,” 
interposed Janet. “They were short but com- 
plete and I have recovered my breath. It is so 
exciting, Jane, and so confusing ” 

“If you will just be coherent enough to tell 
me where Judith is we might wait for the emo- 
tional details,” snapped Jane. “If Judith is in 
any trouble we have no right to stand around 
gasping.” 

“Right, Jane,” assented Dozia. “But I did 
not want to take all the responsibility from Inez. 
This is what happened. We were coming along 
Cobble Lane when Judith espied two messenger 
boys on the rail fence. They were apparently 
squabbling about something, and just as we came 
along by the wild cherry tree, a few hundred 
yards from them, the big fellow gave the little 
fellow a punch and sent him sprawling in the 
bushes. Then the big fellow took to his 
heels ” 

“He had something — a package he grabbed 
from Tim, the little fellow,” interrupted Inez. 

“Yes, I know, but that is not essential now. 


JUNIOR 


67 


we must get to Judith,” declared Dozia, show- 
ing irritation. ‘‘Judith ran ” 

“But the policeman darted out from the elder^ 
berry clump ” 

“Winifred, please!” implored Dozia. “I will 
not forget to tell that, but if you think you can 
do it all more intelligently or quickly ” 

“Pardon me, Dozia, please, I am just too ex- 
cited ” 

“Did Judith go to help the officer?” demanded 
Jane impatiently. 

“No,” fired back Dozia. “It was old Sour 
Sandy, who always declares we are up to mis- 
chief, and when the big boy ran, Judith chased 
after him while Cop Sandy ran after both. We 
stood still ” 

“He was muttering and threatening so,’’ ven- 
tured Janet. 

“Were you afraid of him?” charged Jane. 

“No, but we could not decide instantly that we 
should run after Judith. It was all so sudden,” 
said spokesman Dozia. “And of course we real- 
ized any more commotion would really get us all 
in trouble; that old officer is such a crank.” 

“But to let Judith face it all alone,” challenged 
Jane. 

“I really haven’t told the one important de- 


68 


JANE ALLEN: 


tail,’’ Dozia vainly attempted to explain. “I 
was walking with Judith and two other girls 
were just a little ahead. They were Shirley 
Duncan and that pretty little thing, Sarah — 
something ” 

“Howland,” Jane flung in. 

“Yes,” went on Dozia. “And Judith seemed 
so intent on watching them she hardly answered 
me intelligently.” 

“There is something up between those two,” 
declared Winifred Ayres. “I know it, and I 
guess Judy knows it too.” 

“But what have they to do with the flghting 
messengers?” demanded Jane, now utterly be- 
wildered from the snarled account. 

“The messenger, who got the package from 
Tiny Tim, shouted at Shirley and she waited. 
Then, when he could get near enough he threw 
the paper box to Shirley and she raced off toward 
the Beauty Shop. When we saw the last of it 
we couldn’t tell whom Judith was chasing, but 
she ran right into Dol Vin’s shop,” declared 
Dozia, “and of course Cop Sandy was not long in 
doing the same thing. We knew we would be 
helpless to do an^dhing there if Dol were in, so 
we came back to see what you would suggest,” 


JUNIOR 


69 


ended Dozia with a trail of relief in the last few 
words. 

‘‘I suggest that we go after Judith/’ promptly 
ordered Jane, and if precious time had been 
wasted in the recital, the loss was atoned in the 
pace taken by that rescuing squad as they fol- 
lowed Jane in her race toward Dol Vin’s Beauty 
Shop. 


CHAPTER VIII 


TO THE RESCUE 


HE Beauty Shop was presently besieged 



by an excited crowd of girls, and to 


give due credit to the purely human ele- 
ment it must be admitted the girls were delighted 
to be there — at the forbidden post. 

“Thrilling!’’ whispered Velma Sigsbee, and 
she “said it” for all the others. 

The redoubtable Dol Vin (short for Dolorez 
Vincez) appeared at the quaint square paned 
door. She was gowned in a very close fitting and 
striking black satin “dinger” gown. Her hair 
was done in the most modern of styles, like a win- 
dow show for her hair dressing parlor, and her 
foreign face, with its natural olive tones, was 
very much fixed up with many touches of peach 
and carmine, as well as darker hints under the 
eyes ; and her lashes — ^well, perhaps Dolorez had 
been crying inky tears; that was the effect one 
gathered from a glance at the vampish make-up. 

“Is Miss Stearns here?” asked Jane authorita- 
tively. She and Dol had clashed glances before. 



“IS MISS STEARNS HERE?” ASKED JANE. 
“Jane Allen: Junior,” 


Page 70 




I 


JANE ALLEN: JUNIOR 


71 


and Jane had no idea of condescending to the 
apostate of Wellington. 

“Miss Stearns here!” repeated the highly 
colored lips. Then shoulders shrugged and scorn 
fairly sizzled through an indescribable sneer. “I 
do not check up the patrons. She may be in a 
chair within. Will you enter?” 

The girls surrounding Jane tittered audibly. 
Since when had plain Dol Vin become so foreign? 

“En — ter!” drawled Dozia. “Yes, let’s,” to 
J ane. This little hiss was intended as a reaction- 
ary simper. 

“Miss Stearns would not be here on profes- 
sional business,” retorted Jane. “And she would 
never occupy one of your treatment chairs.” 
Jane hated to dignify anything in the beauty 
shop with that description, but acid terms were 
elusive just then; and besides Jane was now get- 
ting anxious about Judith. 

“Oh, indeed!” more shoulder shrugging and 
a futurist pose of the black satin “dinger,” 
“What else, then, might the Lady Stearns be do- 
ing at my place?” 

“Dol Vincez, you just stop that nonsense,” 
flared Dozia Dalton, stepping up to the fancy 
little door defiantly. “We saw Judith Stearns 
run in here after Shirley Duncan, and you know 


72 


JANE ALLEN: 


very well that old officer Sandy came in after 
her. Now where is Judith?'’ 

“Isn’t it lovely to have you all here? And beg- 
ging me for something?” Hands on hips, then a 
shift of the right hand to a very black ball of hair 
bunched out where the human ear usually re- 
poses. “I am delighted I am sure with this visit- 
ation, and I’d love to ask you all in only I’m 
busy. You will have to excuse me,” and with a 
very Frenchy bow, the Queen of the Beauty 
Shop got behind the squared glass door and. 
pushed it shut till the latch clicked. 

“Shut the door in our faces,” growled Velma, 
as if everyone had not seen the insulting act. 

Jane stood for a moment, thinking seriously 
and swiftly. She was not concerned with the 
girls about her; neither had she any of their 
curiosity about the interior of the shop. She was 
wondering what it all meant, and how she could 
trace Judith. A brilliant thought captured her. 
Why not go inside for a shampoo? 

She turned to her companions. “I suppose 
it is perfectly proper under the circumstances to 
go inside — somehow. I’ll apply for a shampoo!” 

“But the rest of us?” wailed the curious Velma. 

“Ask for something else,” suggested the re- 
sourceful Jane. 


JUNIOR 


73 


“Perhaps she won’t answer the ring,” parried 
Janet. 

“Then we’ll knock,” threatened Jane, as she 
pressed the little button over the “treatment 
hours” sign. 

They waited. There were Jane, Dozia, Vel- 
ma, Winifred, Janet and Inez, six palpitating 
girls, each taking inventory of her possible beau- 
ty spots that might need touching up. Even Dol 
Vin would succumb to such an onslaught of 
orders, but 

“Suppose she charges us some dreadful price 
— like five dollars each?” gasped Velma. 

“Can’t do it,” declared Jane. “We’ll go by 
her price list. But no one seems to answer.” 

“Peeking out, I’ll bet,” whispered Janet. 
“Ring three times, Jane, and she’ll know we 
mean business.” 

Jane followed that advice, but still no answer. 

“There’s a side door,” suggested Dozia, criti- 
cally inspecting the long, low old stone building 
that had been put up originally as a rendezvous 
for Wellington faculty who might want to get 
away from the buzz of girls and college. It 
seemed no one had that sort of disease, however, 
and the rest cure “went to the wall” for want of 
patronage. Just what company was now financ- 


74 


JANE ALLEN: 


ing the rather expensive venture of Dol Vin no 
one knew, but it must have taken a lot of money 
even to buy the window scrim, the porch cretonne 
and the gold lettering on window and door glass. 
These details were visible from the exterior, and 
what, oh, what might the interior look like to 
correspond? 

“The side door,” agreed Jane, “for all but one 
or two. Then perhaps we’ll get an answer here.” 

The ruse worked beautifully, for hardly had 
the tread of feet — eight of them, four pairs — 
passed down the steps than in answer to a very 
lady-like ring of Jane’s a colored maid drew open 
the door. 

“May I get a shampoo?” asked Jane sweetly, 
stepping inside as she spoke and covertly mo- 
tioning Dozia to follow. 

“This way, please,” said the white-capped and 
white-f rocked, black-faced maid. And behold! 
Jane and Dozia were within the mysterious par- 
lor! 

Neither spoke. Both were listening. Some- 
one was sobbing in the next room and Dol Vin’s 
voice was remonstrating. 

As if suddenly realizing the situation the 
colored maid hurried out. The sobbing ceased 


JUNIOR 


75 

=5: 

instantly and so did the talking. A step through 
the hall indicated the coming of Dolorez. 

‘‘What does this mean?” she demanded angrily, 
stepping up to Jane with blazing eyes. “How 
dare you force your way in here?” 

“Is not this a public shop?” fired back Jane, 
equally angry. “Have you not openly solicited 
Wellington patronage?” 

“As if you came for that! If you do not leave 
at once I shall phone the police!” 

“Do,” dared Jane. “And I shall demand that 
they search the place. Someone is hidden here.” 

A laugh, empty of mirth but bursting with 
scorn, followed Jane’s accusation. It ran down 
a falsetto scale like pebbles off a tin roof. Then 
Dolorez turned to summon her maid. 

“Yolande!” she called. “Show these persons 
out.” 

The perplexed darky muttered, “Yes’m,” and 
proceeded to obey, but Jane and Dozia never 
moved. They were listening now to noise of an- 
other sort. The girls on the side porch seemed to 
be having a good time of it. 

“Come,” demanded the inexorable Dolorez. 
“My time is precious and I must have this room. 
If you do not both leave I’ll phone the college.” 

“How perfectly absurd you are, Dolorez,” 


76 


JANE ALLEN: 


said Jane, more alarmed now that no hint of 
Judith’s whereabouts had leaked out. “You 
know perfectly well we can explain all this, and 
you also know we are here to find Judith Stearns 
and we will not leave until you have told us 
where she is or where she went? May I use your 
telephone?” 

“Judith Stearns is not here,” snapped the 
South American. “And what’s more I don’t 
know nor care where she is. I can’t spend my 
time with wild college girls who try to run down 
poor messenger boys.” 

“Very well,” said Jane, deciding no more time 
could be wasted in argument. “But I warn you 
if our friend has been placed in any compro- 
mising position, or has been misrepresented to 
that hateful officer, we shall hold you responsible, 
for our girls saw her come here.” 

Jane and Dozia turned to the door. The maid 
was evidently well pleased with the move, for 
she showed glittering teeth in an inopportune 
smile. Dolor ez had gained a very high natural 
color that cut in streaks through her make-up. 
She was breathing hard, and Dozia, usually fear- 
less, thought it best not to anger her further. 
She followed Jane without even throwing out a 
look of defiance or challenge, and when the door 


JUNIOR 


77 


closed on their heels both Jane and Dozia felt 
and really looked pale. 

The situation was growing more complicated 
every moment, and now the girls from the side 
porch pounced upon the others with frivolous 
inquiries about that beauty shop. 

“Hush,” ordered Jane. “Do you realize 
Judith may have been taken to that horrible old 
station house? You three go back to college and 
make sure she has not returned. We, Dozia, 
J anet and I, will go into the town hall. You can 
phone us there in twenty minutes. Now hurry 
and be prudent. Don’t spread any sensational 
stories.” 

Jane acted like a senior now, but the emer- 
gency was sufficiently exacting to demand such 
forceful means. 

Where was Judith Stearns and what was the 
meaning of Dolorez Vincez’ sinister statement, 
about running down poor messenger boys? Also 
who could have been sobbing in the room back of 
the parlors? 

“Look!” exclaimed Jane as they left the tan- 
bark walk. “Who is that running from the back 
driveway?” 

“Little Sarah Howland,” replied Dozia in 


7B 


JANE ALLEN: JUNIOR 


amazement. ‘'Whatever can that innocent little 
thing be doing around here?” 

“I — ^wonder,” sighed Jane as they hurried off 
to the old town hall. 

“Jane,” murmured Dozia, halting her com- 
panion for a moment as a sudden calling was 
heard through the fields, “do you think that baby 
can be implicated with those unscrupulous shop 
keepers?” 

“She was in there, and we saw her run,” re- 
plied Jane. “I would like to doubt my own 
eyes ” 

Dozia grasped her arm and again they hurried 
on. 

“Find Judith!” That was their slogan. 


CHAPTER IX 


iWHAT HAPPENED TO JUDITH 

I N that mysterious way peculiar to girls, the 
students knew, without the facts being ap- 
parent, that something strange and perhaps 
even desperate had happened to Judith. 

They had not been told any of the details, but 
when the party walking in from the village was 
suddenly broken up, first by the incident of the 
messenger boys’ quarrel and then by Judith’s 
disappearance into Dol Vin’s beauty shop, with 
officer Sandy twirling his club and “gum-shoe- 
ing” after her, the whole situation was as clear 
as if the pieces had been patched together on a 
movie screen. 

Judith, fighting for justice, had been ranged 
with the culprits! 

There was no possibility of her return to the 
college grounds without her companions’ knowl- 
edge; neither was it probable she had gone to 
take a youngster’s part at the emergency court 
in the Town Hall without first having notified 
79 


8o 


JANE ALLEN: 


Jane or some of the other girls. She would 
have dragged them along with her, for Judith 
believed in team play for all things, even at trials 
and courts of alleged justice. 

So it was that the girls’ anxiety was not so 
thinly supported as the mere record of events 
might have indicated ; they knew there was some- 
thing wrong, knew it instantly and knew it posi- 
tively; and they were right about it. too. 

The outstanding fact was a weighty argument. 
Dolorez Vincez had been expelled from Welling- 
ton the year previous; she had vowed vengence 
against Jane Allen and her friend, Judith 
Stearns (although both girls had actually inter- 
ceded for the culprit with the college faculty), 
and now was the time and this was the place to 
wreak her vengeance. 

In a shorter time than occupies this explana- 
tion J ane and Dozia and Janet reached the Town 
Hall. The ancient building of dingy brick filled 
a conspicuous spot facing the Square; its car- 
riage stone was a revolutionary relic and two re- 
liable cannon set off the much trampled green 
diamond in front with something of a stately 
significance. It was fast growing dark in the 
early autumn evening, but the excitement of an 
an’est had drawn a crowd from the few business 


JUNIOR 


8i 


offices and from the passersby at the supper hour, 
flanked and reinforced by boys, boys who seem 
to go with excitement — always, at all times and 
in all places. 

The students made their way into the hall with 
its sputtering gas light, and while Janet went to 
the telephone booth, Jane and Dozia hurried to 
the office of the chief of police. 

“Judith!” 

Both girls had uttered the name and both now 
elbowed their way through the curious crowd up 
to the rail, where stood the disconsolate Judith. 

“Keep back, keep back,” ordered an officer. 
He was the second and only other active mem- 
ber of “the force” besides Sandy Jamison, he who 
had “taken Judith in.” 

Jane and Dozia urged forward in spite of 
orders, however, and now Judith saw them! She 
flashed a look first defiant then hopeless. It had 
defiance for the charge, but was hopeless to make 
that country court understand. Jane and Dozia 
answered the code with unwavering determina- 
tion fairly emitting from their every feature. 

But the chief was talking or muttering, and he 
had been pompously rapping for order. 

Officer Sandy was trying desperately to tell 
his story, but between twirling his club and chew- 


82 


JANE ALLEN: 


ing tobacco he was sorely pressed for a chance to 
say anything. 

“This here girl,” he mumbled, “was racin’ after 
a boy with a package of joo-ell-ry. It was joo- 
ell-ry I know, for them boys from the city store 
was called to deliver ” 

“Never mind about the boys,” interrupted the 
chief, “tell us what the charge is against this 
girl.” 

J ane and Dozia exchanged a look complimen- 
tary to that chief. He had some sense they pri- 
vately admitted. 

“Yes, yer honor, I’m cornin’ to that,” defended 
Sandy. “She ran first after a boy, then after a 
girl, and I seen the package go through the 


“Flyin’? Had it wings or was it a toy bal- 
loon?” Chief Harfield was not a man to disap- 
point his audience, and the laugh that thanked 
him for this quip set Sandy twirling and chewing 
more vigorously than ever. 

“It was pegged, throwed, fired,” shouted 
Sandy, and his club just touched Judith’s 
sleeve, electrifying her into open indignation. 

“Keep that — stick down,” ordered the chief, 
while Judith’s indignation subsided. 

How pretty she looked standing there in those 


JUNIOR 


83 


sordid surroundings! Contrast, the maker of all 
standards, outlined the tall dark-haired girl in 
her brilliant red junior cap and definite red 
sweater, like the central figure in some old time 
country picture, where urchins and queer men 
gave her the middle of the stage and plagiarized 
the scene, ‘‘At the Bar of Justice.” 

“You caught this here flying joo-ell-ry?” de- 
manded the chief. 

“Oh no, oh no,” parried Sandy. “Someone 
else caught that,” and he waddled his head from 
side to side in amplification. 

“Who? Where is it?” The chief was not 
playing the gallery now. 

“The propri-e-tor of that there beauty in- 
stitooshun has it, and it’s hers. It had her name 
and address on it.” 

A sneering titter from the audience followed 
that foolish statement. Old Sour Sandy had 
balled things up considerably this time. 

“Then what’s the charge and who makes it?” 
shouted and rapped Chief Hadfield. 

“Loiterin’ and disturbin’, and I make th’ 
charge!” Sandy j)ut his cap on in the excitement 
of that speech but quickly yanked it off again in 
respect to the court. 

Jane and Dozia could not remain longer si- 


84 


JANE ALLEN: 


lent. Evidently Judith had been educated in the 
absurd proceedings before they came. Janet 
was now in from the telephone booth and stood 
beside her companions, while Jane attempted to 
interrupt. 

‘‘May I speak?” she called out in the most 
musical tone her voice would accept. 

“Certainly, miss,” replied the chief. He evi- 
dently did not share the opinion of his subordi- 
nate on Wellington girls’ character. 

“This arrest is an outrage — a frame-up,” de- 
clared Jane, glad to recall the vernacular. 
“There are three witnesses here who saw the 
trouble and we’ll find others if you want them. 
The fact is Officer Jamison is always cross with 
us students” (she put it mildly), “and he was, 
perhaps, too willing to listen to our enemies. The 
proprietor of the beauty shop is a former Wel- 
lington student who was asked to withdraw last 
spring” (again the modification), “and this 
afternoon she saw her chance to retaliate — ^to get 
even.” J ane made sure of being understood and 
now suddenly ceased speaking. She had learned 
the maxim, “When you say a good thing, stop.” 

The chief stroked his beard lines (no beard 
showed just now), then pushed his cap back 
officially. J udith slid her white hands along the 


JUNIOR 


85 


brass rail playfully and even smiled at the man 
behind it. He was a man if also an officer, and 
he must know by her manner that Judith Stearns 
was just a very nice little girl being dreadfully 
imposed upon. 

‘‘Sit down, young lady. We’ll be through in 
a few minutes,” said the considerate chief; and 
Judith dropped to the bench beside Jane, Janet 
and Dozia. All three could not squeeze her 
hands at once, but all three managed to do some- 
thing affectionate, if Janet did have to be con- 
tent with a mere pluck at the white sweater 
sleeve. 

“Now see here,” spoke the chief in a tone of 
irritated finality. “Sandy, what do you mean by 
disturbin’ and loiterin’?” 

“By loiterin’ I mean that racin’ after them 
little boys who was going about their business, 
and by disturbin’ I mean — I mean that — ^that 
them college girls is alius raisin’ a rumpus.” 

“Discharged!” sang out the chief and he did 
sing it. The tune of that single word embraced 
at least three whole tones and suggested several 
more. 

A tumult followed the announcement but the 
chief rapped again for order. 

“I want you people and Officer Sandy to lis- 


86 


JANE ALLEN: 


ten to me,” he thundered. “Because girls go to 
a college ain’t no reason why they should be pes- 
tered” (his errors were truly elegant) , “and next 
time I hear any such fool complaint there’ll be 
some shiftin’ of badges. Clear the court!” 

And could you blame the Wellingtons pres- 
ent for shaking hands with Chief Hadfield? 

Making their way out finally the girls smiled 
to those in the curious throng who waited to sym- 
pathize or congratulate, and just at the end of 
the dingy hall Judith felt a small, warm hand 
grasp her own. 

“I want to thank you, miss,” spoke a hesitant 
voice. ‘“You saved me from that ‘guy’ this after- 
noon, but I’m awful sorry you got into a scrape.” 

It was Tiny Tim, the messenger boy. 

“Oh, that’s all right,” declared Judith heart- 
ily. “I was glad to be on hand and that doesn’t 
matter. Did you manage to deliver the box 
safely?” 

“I got it into the shop but the right one didn’t 
sign for it. I know that ’cause that black haired 
one has a queer name and the box was for some 
Sarah Something. But I guess she’ll get it all 
right,” he finished with a professional air of cer- 
tainty. “She comes there a lot.” 


JUNIOR 


87 


“A box of jewelry for little Sarah Howland,” 
said Jane to Dozia. 

‘‘And the sobbing in the back room,” whis- 
pered Dozia in answer. 

“That was she who ran out the back way,” con- 
cluded Jane while Judith and the others were 
busy taking leave of the messenger boy. 

“Some experience!” exhaled Judith, stronger 
and braver for her recent incarceration. 

“That, and something else,” paraphrased Jane. 
“But someone please run to that phone and tell 
the proctor we are coming. They may send the 
guards out after us. It wants only ten minutes 
of tea time. Run!” 

The conunand was followed out to the letter. 


CHAPTER X 


THE INTERLUDE 


ALK about antagonism,” glowered 



Janet. ‘T call the whole proceedings an 


outrage, and if you want to know what 
I would do about it, I would ask a Wellington 
official to sue this dinky little town for damages.” 
She snapped out the words as if each syllable 
were a blow on the very heads of the offenders. 

“Don’t you get excited, Janet,” cautioned 
Jane. “We have our lady-like hands very full 
at the moment, and to run into more trouble 
would be positively rash. Besides, here is Judy, 
unrumpled as a babe from its cradle; seems to 
have enjoyed the whole thing and I can guess 
why.” 

“So can we,” quickly followed Dozia. “She 
will put the experience down in her field work 
for Social Service. This extra year promises to 
turn out at least two stars in that course.” 

They were in the lavatory hastily fixing up for 
tea, almost late but thankful to be within the 


88 


JANE ALLEN: JUNIOR 


89 


gates before the gong sounded. The adventures 
of that afternoon had been thrilling indeed, and 
a few of the girls shared with Jane the sus- 
picions now settling upon the two freshmen, 
Shirley Duncan and Sarah Howland. Their 
presence at Dol Vin’s shop, the sobbing heard 
behind doors, and that wild run of the girl who 
tried to get away from the place by actually scal- 
ing a back fence, and who was recognized as the 
demure little Sarah, all this furnished plenty of 
material for a mystery story. 

But it was the innocent remark of the grate- 
ful messenger boy, that put the climax in at the 
very peak of interest. 

‘T know the right girl didn’t sign the slip,” he 
had told Jane and Judith, “because that black 
haired one has a queer name and she isn’t Sarah 
Howland.” 

So the precious package was for little Sarah 
Howland. And it was being sent to her, care of 
Dol Vin. Also, and more important than either 
particular, the delivery of that message had 
landed Judith Steams in court. 

Was it any wonder ghosts had been crowded 
out of the day’s or night’s programme? 

“Don’t worry,” calmly advised the heroic 
Judith. “What happened this afternoon is only 


90 


JANE ALLEN: 


an introduction. The real thriller is yet to 
come.” 

‘When?” anticipated Velma. 

“Oh, it threatens to be a serial. I may be able 
to give you a reel or two tonight after study 
hour.” 

“Come down to my room,” begged Janet. “I 
have such a big couch and a whole raft may pile 
up on it.” 

“That’s a good idea,” agreed Jane as the last 
towel was tossed into its basket. “Besides, we 
haven’t a thing to eat in our quarters and what’s 
a good yarn without grub? Land sakes, hear 
the crockery! We’ll miss the hash, I fear me,” 
and only the restraining influence of Miss Fairlie 
in the lower hall saved a third rail flight via bal- 
lustrades. 

Sweeping into the dining room Jane’s eyes 
seemed attracted to a corner in freshmen’s quar- 
ters. It might have been her excited imagina- 
tion or pure incident, but she did look straight 
into the frightened blue eyes of little Sarah How- 
land. 

For the fraction of a second there was some- 
thing like a clash. Jane’s look was one of indig- 
nant question while the other unmistakably 
showed fear. Then Shirley Duncan said some- 


JUNIOR 


91 


thing to Sarah and the connection was severed. 

Hash may have been served or even real lamb 
chops, but no power of special dishes served to 
distract the students from their delicious excite- 
ment. 

“What in the world are you watching that 
door for?” Jane asked Dozia, who seemed hyp- 
notized by a brass door knob. 

“Cops,” replied Dozia cryptically. “I should 
hate to go out again tonight.” 

“That’s a fork,” Winifred Ayres prompted 
Judith as the latter pierced her pretty sherbet 
with a prong. 

“I know,” answered Judith, “but this mound 
is so pretty I don’t want to spoil it at one gulp. 
A fork is daintier.” 

“And leakier,” finished the critic. 

Altogether the air was charged and surcharged 
with thrills, but it was Maud Leslie who broke 
the spell. 

“Jane,” she whispered as they passed out, 
“don’t forget tonight at Lenox. The girls are 
depending on you.” 

“Tonight at Lenox, what for?” puzzled Jane. 

“Ghosts,” said Maud. Then Jane remem- 
bered she had promised to raid the ghosts at 
Lenox Hall and to bring to the frightened fresh- 


92 


JANE ALLEN: 


men a whole company of braves with their re- 
sistless reinforcements. And she had not yet 
been able to do a single thing about it! 

“We will all be finished with our work by 8 :15, 
Judith/’ Dozia Dalton announced authoritative- 
ly, “then you may recite the adventure of a Wel- 
lington in Distress. I’ll be prepared to take you 
down verbatim, in case your counsel should need 
the confession.” 

“Janet, please have plenty of cheese, crackers 
and a few nuts. I’m losing weight,” Implored 
Winifred. 

“And Jane, will you be so good as to bring a 
few sample apples that came in that last parcel 
post from Montana?” suggested Ted Guthrie. 
“I missed things this afternoon but I don’t in- 
tend to be overlooked this evening.” 

Jane clutched Judith’s arm to disentangle her 
from the others. 

“I have got to speak to you alone, Judy,” she 
whispered. “It’s about the noises and the ghosts. 
The babes are scared blue, threatening to desert 
the camp. Get outside the door and we can van- 
ish for a few minutes before study hour.” They 
waited at the foot of the stairs until Janet and 
Winifred ascended, then Judith nearly fell over 
Jane as they both tried to go through the door 


JUNIOR 


93 


at once, but the escape was successful in spite of 
too much noise from the loose old brass knocker. 

Instinctively the two chums turned from the 
broad stone steps into the left path that ran away 
from a brilliant arc light into Elm Shadows. Si- 
lently both girls exchanged confidences, for 
Jane’s arm around Judith’s waist was compre- 
hensive, and each little hug told a story of its 
own. 

‘‘Dear heart !” breathed Judith. “I would just 
have died if you hadn’t rescued me when you did. 
And I know the others — ^ran away.” 

“Judy, love,” returned Jane, “they didn’t 
know where you were, really. And those country 
officers have threatened us before, you know. I 
suppose they are a little bit jealous that we girls 
and not their boys, are scattered over the land- 
scape with yells and other appropriate noises. 
Sit down” (they had reached a birch bench), “I 
must tell you about Lenox Hall.” 

“I know about the noises and I do believe they 
are really uncanny,” said Judith, “but what can 
we do away over at this end of the campus?” 

“Go over to the other end, of course,” said 
straightforward Jane, “and I have promised to 
lay those ghosts tonight.” 


94 


VANE ALLEN: 


“Tonight!’’ sighed Judith, dropping her head 
on Jane’s shoulder, 

“Not you, of course. You shan’t come,” pro- 
tested Jane. “I only wanted to plan things with 
you. A warm bed and a nice cup of malted milk 
will be about all for you this night, Judy dear.” 
The head, as black as Judith’s own in the 
shadows, tried to fold itself on a cheek if no clos- 
er, but the attempt scarcely felt comfortable, and 
Jane just blew a kiss into Judith’s ear, then 
straightened up again. 

“As if I would miss that!” murmured Judith. 
“I am dog-tired, Dinksy, but ghosts! Oh, boy! 
Lead me to ’em !” and the courage of youth de- 
fied that day’s record for Judith Stearns. 

“We must hurry; see the lights in the girls’ 
rooms, and you know they are bound to slight 
work tonight. This is what I suppose we will 
have to do. A few of us — ^you, if you insist, 
Dozia and Winifred, and I will somehow get out 
after Miss'Fairlie has made the rounds. I don’t 
know how we’ll do it, but we have got to try. 
Then over at Lenox we may hide in the shrub- 
bery and wait for the ghosts. I am perfectly 
sure they will come along the path from the gate 
keeper’s cottage. Either they are inside or per- 


^JUNIOR 


95 


mitted to enter, and it isn’t likely that ordinary 
spooks come through such walls as ours.” 

“All right. I’ll be there if I don’t fall asleep 
over my trig. But I do think being arrested is 
awfully wearying — I could dream here in spite 
of the howling winds. J ane Allen, do you real- 
ize this is a cold, bleak, dreary night, and you are 
tempting ghosts to parade in — ^bathing suits or 
nighties?” 

“It is cold; take an end of my scarf and hurry 
in. May a kind thought prompt us how to elude 
the wary Fairlie. Take care you don’t seem so- 
ciable when she taps. It would be fatal if she 
should enter for a ‘cozy little chat.’ She has done 
it, you know.” 

“Do I know it? Do you think I shall ever 
forget the cozy little chat she dropped in for, 
when my alcohol lamp thrust under the couch 
threatened to burn down the place? I have never 
been friendly with the inspector since.” 

Judith ceased speaking suddenly and Jane 
clutched her arm as voices were heard some- 
where. Yes — ^two girls were leaving Headley 
Hall and now came close enough to Jane and 
Judith to send even their subdued voices ahead 
in the darkness. 


96 


JANE ALLEN: 


“You’re a baby,” one said. “And you nearly 
spoiled it all this afternoon.” 

“I never thought it would be this way. I’m 
so sorry I ” said the second voice. 

“Goodness sake, stop whimperin’. Aren’t you 
satisfied? Hush, there’s someone on the bench.” 

“Shirley and Sarah,” whispered Jane in Ju- 
dith’s ear. 

But the two figures on the path had turned, 
and were now lost in the darkness along the 
lonely hedged-in walk. 

“Imagine!” said Judith indignantly. “Those 
two little freshmen away over here instead of be- 
ing at their books 1” 

“And did you notice Shirley was blaming little 
Sarah for whimpering? I tell you, Judith, there 
is something queer about that Shirley. She has 
money yet she came in on a scholarship. Then, 
there was the registered package of jewelry that 
brought disaster upon you and the messenger 
boy, Tim. He said it was addressed to Sarah. 
She surely shows a woeful lack of luxury, yet 
someone was sending her jewelry.” 

“And Dol Vin was receiving their mail, includ- 
ing the box,” Judith summed up. 

“I am sure it was Sarah I heard sobbing in 
that back room,” insisted Jane. 


JUNIOR 


97 


‘‘There are the girls looking for us. We will 
have to plead headaches and need of fresh air, 
for you know I promised them the real story 
of my incarceration,” sighed Judith, following 
Jane’s lead toward the group of searchers who 
came down the path calling and whistling for 
Jane and Judith. 

“Do tell it to them, they have been so splen- 
did,” pleaded Jane. “Besides, we have a night’s 
work before us if we can escape on the ghost 
hunt, and a good yarn will do a lot to settle all 
our nerves. Remember, you are not to come un- 
less you simply can’t stay in bed, and if you re- 
main in our building you may be able to allay sus- 
picion when Fairlie comes snooping. ’Lo girls!” 
to the whistlers. “Here we are! Judy needed 
the air.” 

With an all star cast and such headliners as 
were scheduled for Jane and her constituents on 
that particular night, it was not easy to antici- 
pate the outcome. If the ghosts would only do 
their part and appear on time! 


CHAPTER XI 


A TWICE TOLD TALE 

J UDITH tried to beg off on her story of the 
great adventure, but the girls were insistent. 
“Just tell us what happened when you 
got inside the Beauty Shop,” begged Velma, who 
had secret dreams of C. O. D. dimples and longed 
to hear of such possibilities. 

“It was like a screen comedy,” replied Judith, 
who had been beautifully pillowed up and other- 
wise made comfortable on Janet’s solo-couch. 
The audience was scattered around on cushions, 
on the floor, on chairs, and even on the one nar- 
row window sill. Queening it from her pillows 
Judith looked quite Romanesque, with Jane 
perched on a cretonne pedestal above the divan’s 
level, waving her riding crop regally. The ped- 
estal really was a specially favored trunk of 
Jane’s which had escaped storage quarters and 
served many useful and practical purposes, the 
present being one in point. 

“You were saying,” Jane reminded Judith, 

98 


JANE ALLEN: JUNIOR 


99 


placing a firm hand on the heaving breast sol- 
emnly, ‘‘that the rush in was like a movie scene.” 

“I said comedy, dear; there’s a difference. 
First, Dol opened the pigeon holed door, then 
Sarah Howland tumbled in howling — she was 
honestly very much frightened, next went Shir- 
ley Duncan. She seemed wild to get under cov- 
er. Then I tripped along ” 

“Not scared or anything?” from Nettie. 

“Not a bit scared but mad as fury,” declared 
Judith, “for there was old Sour Sandy at my 
heels taking such long and such big steps I felt 
every next foot would crush me into the brand 
new door mat.” 

“Poor Judy,” soothed Jane. “And no one to 
say thee nay!” 

“Say me nix,” moaned Judith. “I would have 
had thee say other things than that. But to the 
tale. Have you ever seen a mouse run from a 
cat and a dog after the cat and a boy after the 
dog? You know that famous picture, I see. 
Well, when the messenger boy got away some- 
where about Dol’s establishment, and Sarah went 
next, then went Shirley and. Little Me, followed 
by that giant Sour Sandy! Well, girls, I have to 
admit that for a few minutes I couldn’t see a 
thing but Dol Vin’s eyes. She had me hypno- 


lOO 


^JANE ALLEN: 


tized,” and Judith paused to make sure of the 
dramatic impression. 

“I can see her glare!” declared Jane. ‘‘Dol’s 
eyes were made for nobler tasks than matching 
hair shades.” 

“And mixing flesh tints,” contributed Dozia, 
who just then managed to purloin a sample of 
the fudge. 

“Are you girls sure that keyhole is sealed and 
the door still impregnable?” demanded Judith 
the narrator, with a sweeping glance about the 
room. 

Winifred Ayres dropped to the door sill and 
spread herself across it while Dozia moved her 
chair to the jam in order to plank her shoulders 
over the keyhole. 

“Air tight,” announced Jane, “and every girl 
here is pledged, Judy. You may proceed with 
absolute safety.” 

“The responsibility is yours, Jane, for we had 
an awful time for a brief interval under the 
doughty Dol’s roof. Things flew ” 

“Hair brushes and sponges?” prompted Janet, 
eager for sensation. 

“Can’t say as to the missiles,” replied Judith, 
showing signs of relaxing into indifference, “but 
the way that black head yelled, and Sarah 


JUNIOR 


lOI 


sobbed, and Shirley — I guess she shouted. I 
know her noise was next loudest to Sour Sandy’s 
and that was some racket!” 

“But what was it all about?” demanded Janet. 

“About the precious box — jewelry or some- 
thing valuable. When I saw the big boy take 
it from Tiny Tim and heard Tim yell, I knew 
there was mischief brewing if nothing worse, but 
I never expected to see Shirley Duncan jump 
into it. She aided and abetted the thief, for she 
caught that box on a fly and would have escaped 
if little Judy Stearns had not been right there 
J udy-on-the- sp ot . ” 

“But why did old Sour Sandy lay hands on 
you?” asked Jane, somewhat bewildered by the 
maze into which Judith was leading her audi- 
ence. 

“Oh, there was such a perfectly wild time of 
it,” replied Judith, “and of course Dol and Shir- 
ley had it all their own way — ^two to one, you 
know.” 

“But didn’t — little Sarah try to help you?” 
pressed Jane. 

“Little Sarah was having a fit out in the 
kitchen, and the black maid wanted to pour water 
over her, said she was in hysterics, only the word 
she used was somewhat impaired.” 


102 


JANE ALLEN: 


“What a perfectly rip-roaring time you must 
have had/’ commented Dozia, eyeing the fudge. 
“And I suppose you were taken in by Sour Sandy 
because you seemed easiest to convey to the Town 
Hall. Just like the old detective stories, arrest 
someone, anyone, and depend upon the evidence 
to do the rest.” 

“Yes, I was handiest, nearest the door and dry 
eyed. Besides, I kept kicking around on a jog 
trot all over the place because I could not make 
any other sort of noise. Honestly, girls, it was 
too funny for words!” and Judith doubled up 
in the pillows like a human jack-knife. 

“I am suspicious, Judy Steams, that you 
tempted old Sour Sandy to do his worst ; sort of 
defied him,” suggested Jane, dragging a Colum- 
bia cushion from Judith’s convulsed arms. “Did 
you really want to be arrested?” 

“I did not!” shouted Judith, springing up 
straight and almost upsetting the entire scene. 
“It was Dpi Vin who insisted that we Welling- 
tons were spoiling her business, interfering with 
her customers and — she said this — ‘now this 
creature actually tries to steal my parcels from a 
messenger boy!’ Can you fancy that accusation 
on this poor head?” 

“But you didn’t have the box?” asked Janet. 


JUNIOR 


103 


“Certainly not. Dol knew that, but old Sandy 
didn’t. I could easily have escaped when he 
ordered me to ‘come along, girl,’ but I knew to 
resist arrest might bring real trouble upon us, 
whereas now the whole thing is a farce, and whis- 
per!” (she put her finger to her lips) “it must 
never be told of within this campus. News from 
the village rarely gets in here unless we bring it, 
and it would be a shame to worry prexy with that 
sort of thing. She would never understand it.” 

Applause, silent but visible, followed this. 
Heads were wagged, arms waved and even feet 
waggled in approval, but no unseemly sounds 
escaped the secret chamber. 

“Never a word!” prompted Jane in a whisper 
with both hands uplifted. 

“Never a word!” repeated the conclave in ap- 
propriate response. 

“And that will be about all,” finished Judith. 
“I am too tired to move but I can’t allow you to 
carry me. No, don’t, please” ,{no one had of- 
fered). “I’ll just toddle along — it’s lots better 
than keeping step with Sandy.” 

“But the treat,” wailed J anet. “I have fudge 
and cheese sticks.” 

“Please deliver mine,” drawled Judith. “I 


104 


JANE ALLEN: 


am unable to collect in person — I simply am — 
tired.” 

“And you should be,” agreed Jane, glad that 
Judith had been wise enough to break up the 
party early. In fact Jane was not sure whether 
genuine fatigue or possible ghost hunts, had in- 
spired the heroic Judy to leave that buzzing bevy 
of students. At any rate Janet counted out four 
squares of fudge and measured three ink wells 
of cheese tid-bits (the well was glass and only 
used for refreshments), all of which was folded 
in a paper napkin and handed to Jane. 

“Sorry you must leave,” murmured Janet, 
“but Judith has had a trying day. Come again 
and I’ll treat you better.” 

“We had a perfectly^ lovely time,” insisted 
Jane, “but I must put Judy to bed. She is apt to 
walk in her sleep when overtired. Come, dearie, 
toddle along. Good night, girls. Pleasant 
dreams,” and those who were not too interested 
in the fudge and tid-bits responded appro- 
priately. 

“Oh,” moaned Jarie, when the two finally 
reached their own quarters, room 19, “wasn’t that 
an ordeal?” 

“Rather,” replied Judith, kicking her shoes 
off. “How did I make out?” 


7UNI0R 


105 


“Wonderfully. You tied them all up in knots 
without leaving an end to follow. Neither clues 
nor climax — ^just a jumble of sounds, but thrill- 
ing for all that. I was so fearful they would 
ask more about the unfortunate Shirley but you 
veered them off beautifully. Now, Pally dear, 
tumble in, and I’ll slip out and get Dozia. Lenox 
seems far away just now, and those babes are 
trembling while we dare to enjoy ourselves.” 

“Jane dear,” interrupted Judith, “I do not 
believe you should risk going over there tonight. 
Really I am getting nervous of the whole thing.” 

“Just reaction,” said Jane, her own eyes spark- 
ling. “You have gone through enough today to 
give you nerves, and I want you to shut your eyes 
as soon as ever you can. After all I may just — 
do something else. Leave it to me and Dozia the 
Fearless. You know what a brave she can be 
in an emergency.” 

“And I know what a star you can be in a pinch. 
But Lenox at midnight ” 

“Hush, dear, and let me put out your light. 
There, you will be asleep before the party winds 
up. There’s the honor ring. Ten minutes more 
to all lights out. I love an honor system with a 
warning gong and an inspection. So complete.” 

Judith required little coaxing to enter dream- 


JANE ALLEN: JUNIOR 


io6 

land, and when Jane heard Miss Fairlie’s step in 
the hall, on that tripping little inspection tour, 
the light in room 19 was out. 

Also, Jane under the coverlets was fully 
dressed for her ghost raid at Lenox Hall. 

Miss Fairlie’s step paused at the door! Jane 
tittered, but Judith breathed the regular tones 
of sleep. 

For a moment it seemed the inspector would 
knock! She must want something! 

Someone else came along the corridor and di- 
rectly at that door they chose to whisper! 

Jane felt her hour had come, but it was merely 
the fear of a troubled mind, for presently Miss 
Fairlie laughed lightly, and the pair journeyed 
on. 

It was a full hour before the coast was safely 
clear for Jane’s venture. 


CHAPTER XII 


A WILD NIGHT OF IT 

I T was a beautiful night, with the Hunter’s 
Moon set high and bright in its ocean of 
flickering stars, like nothing else than moon 
and stars in the same old blue canopy, brocaded 
and embossed with incorrigible little gray clouds, 
ducking in and out of lacy paths and shadowy 
skyscapes. 

Beneath, on Wellington campus, the dormito- 
ries stood up like tiny cottages here and there, 
the more important building, Madison Hall, tow- 
ering pompously over the smaller flock. It was 
in Madison that Jane and Judith as juniors were 
housed, while over in a west corner grouped 
about the big walled entrance was, among the 
lesser landmarks, Lenox, one of the first erected 
of the Wellington buildings; quaint, roomy and 
just now decidedly ‘‘spooky.” 

The scene was fascinating in its silence, for 
only the dimmest of path lights seemed alive over 
the big place, and not a breath of wind stirred the 

107 


io8 


VANE ALLEN: 


tenacious oak leaves or other rugged foliage, too 
sparse to be counted, now that winter had given 
warning and was on his ruthless way. 

The two figures creeping along like some elfin 
prowlers were p^ane and Dozia, and they made 
straight through that bold moonlight for Lenox 
HaU. 

“Doesn’t it seem silly?” Jane took time to re- 
mark. “The very idea of expecting trouble on 
such a night.” 

“It’s all your doing. Lady Jane,” Dozia retal- 
iated, “and if I don’t see a ghost after all this 
I’ll never forgive you.” 

“There was no guarantee, Dozia. But I did 
promise to appease the fears of those young- 
sters. What time is it?” 

“When I left my nice cozy room for this, it 
was twenty minutes to twelve. I believe you 
were on time at the fire escape, so I would say 
it is now about ten minutes of. Hold my hand, 
Jane. This may be thrilling but it’s awfully 
weird.” 

“Don’t you like it? Look at that moon, and 
all the sparklers 1” 

“But think of those hedges, ugh! I’m wobbly 
at the knees already, and we’re not half way 
across. Never knew a campus could be so — 


JUNIOR 


109 

oceanic, I shall be striking out with my arms 
presently, feet seem unable to carry all the re- 
sponsibility,” and the tall girl cuddled into Jane’s 
cape as far as the garment would accommodate 
her. 

“You are not really nervous, Dozia the Fear- 
less,” Jane rebuked. “Why, I’m just tingling 
with the spirit of adventure.” 

“You may, and the spirit of adventure is a lot 
more attractive than the spirits we’re out gun- 
ning for. Do you expect to get off scot-free 
if you smash anything with that golf stick? 
What do you think Miss Rutledge will say?” 

“I shan’t bang unless there is nothing else to 
do, and then I’m sure I can explain. A Montana 
girl from a real ranch ought to have some credit 
for field work.” Jane was twirling her capable 
brassie with rather a dangerous swing and the 
odd weapon now seemed formidable indeed. 

“What’s that?” exclaimed Dozia, as a shadow 
almost tripped them. “It’s an animal I know 
but ” 

“A frightened little rabbit,” replied Jane. 
“They have a lovely time when the thoughtless 
girls are safe behind doors. But, Dozia, honestly 
I think I do see something else — ^bigger than — a 
rabbit!” 


no 


TANK ALLEN: 


Both girls stopped suddenly and drew back in 
the shadow of a tall lilac bush. They were well 
across the campus and now, at the end of the 
path, near the gate and not far from Lenox Hall, 
something moved in and out of the moonlit way. 
It seemed to cross from the big stone wall and 
glide into the grove of magnolia. 

Jane dropped Dozia’s arm and stepped out to 
peer after the shadow. They were scarcely near 
enough to hear footfalls even had the padding 
of leaves and heavy grass not actually deadened 
that possibility. 

“Lively ghost!” she whispered. “Let’s head 
if off through the grove.” 

“But, Jane, it may be some dangerous prowl- 
er 

“How could he get in here? Besides we are 
protected.” She had the golf club firm in her 
right hand and seemed to depend on it to lay 
ghosts or prowlers. “Come on, Dozia. Of 
course that is not a bona fide ghost but it may be 
the noise maker.” 

Dozia followed Jane, although she did hang on 
to an end of the blue cape and pulled back when- 
ever the darkness seemed too uncertain of pene- 
tration. The little thickets of ornamental ever- 
greens suddenly loomed up into proportions of 


JUNIOR 


1 1 1 


veritable forests, and every baby Christmas tree 
was swelled out like a circular blue fir, thick and 
prickly. 

But Jane headed straight as the foliage al- 
lowed, across the campus to the magnolia grove, 
where the eucalyptus trees shot up bare and leaf- 
less, ghostly, spectral in the searching moon- 
light. 

A crisp snapping of some dry brambles sent 
out an alarm from the hedges close to Lenox 
Hall and the girls listened anxiously. 

“Human,” whispered Jane, “and rather dain- 
ty. Hardly a masculine foot to that light touch. 
Don’t be alarmed, Dozia. We are two to one 
and evidently that other one is a female.” She 
said this with assumed confidence, for she feared 
Dozia might turn and run at any moment. 

They were almost in the little grove and it 
was between there and the boxwood that touched 
the side porch of Lenox that this hidden thing 
must be. Jane was by no means as brave as her 
carefree manner indicated, and every time she 
held a bush from brushing Dozia’s face she took 
occasion to listen intently for vagrant noises. 

Stumbling over low underbrush in their rub- 
ber soled tennis shoes was not like walking out 
in the open, and just as Dozia breathed a sigh of 


1 12 


JANE ALLEN: 


relief that the landscape gardening went no fur- 
ther, a wild scream, shrill and piercing, cut the 
night like an arrow! 

Speechless, the girls stood terrified, while the 
wail seemed to linger suspended somewhere! 

“Oh, what was it?” gasped Dozia, but Jane 
clung to her arm in silence. 

The next instant a clanging of chains and rat- 
tling of metals broke out from Lenox Hall. 

“Quick,” exclaimed Jane, almost dragging her 
companion forward, “we must locate it, we must 
reach the dormitory!” But before they could 
even gain the pathway, the big fire bell pealed 
out its alarm and suddenly every window in 
Lenox Hall blazed with light at a single flash — 
the answer of that electric button pressed by the 
matron, who now swung open the big oaken door 
and stood summoning her frightened charges to 
“come out” in the order of fire drill. 

“Don’t hurry, be calm!” she called out in the 
voice of authority, and by now the freshmen who 
lined the halls and stairways, had recovered their 
composure and even courage in the face of res- 
cue. 

J ane and Dozia rushed up to Miss Gifford, the 
matron, and asked about the outside alarm. At 
her word Jane jumped to the fire box, smashed 


JUNIOR 


112 

the glass with her golf club and then turned the 
key. 

By this time the students were outside the 
building, and in their night robes the seventy-five 
freshmen shivered from fear and exposure, while 
Miss Gifford, Jane and Dozia tried to reassure 
them. 

“Where’s the fire?” asked Jane, as the local 
brigade of volunteer citizens dashed in the 
grounds through the main gateway. 

“Where is it?” demanded Miss Gifford of the 
students. There was no smoke, no blaze, not 
even an odor of things burning could be distin- 
guished. 

“It must have been in the big attic,” someone 
said, “for it was the old brass bell that rang first.” 

“Who gave the alarm?” demanded the matron. 

No one answered this, and the momentary 
pause was broken now by the wild rush of the 
fire department along the roadway. 

First the hose cart, the “hook and ladder” 
‘jerked up to the porch where the girls waited, 
breathless but calmer now that men and means 
had come to their rescue. 

“One side! One side!” shouted the chief, and 
to the credit of that department it must be said 
his men stretched their line of hose along from 


JANE ALLEN: 


nT4 

the hydrant and up those steps, even through the 
crowd of trembling students, in regular fire drill 
time. Jane stepped inside the hall and was sniff- 
ing audibly. 

“Wait a minute!” she commanded. “We 
haven’t located the fire yet and it may not be 
very much. The house is equipped with extin- 
guishers,” she informed the alert chief. “They 
may answer without water.” 

The rubber coated men held their hose high 
and were ready to shout in signal to the man at 
the hydrant, while Jane took the chief upstairs. 
He never spoke but tramped ahead as if a word 
would imperil the dignity of the Wide Awake 
Hose Company. Neither did Jane venture fur- 
ther remarks for she was “gunning” for the fire 
and thinking of ghosts ! 

Doors to right and left were promptly pushed 
open but no evidence of fire could be found. 

“Try the attic,” said the chief finally, “rubbish 
might catch from a flue.” 

At his order Jane turned into the narrow box 
stairway, lighted only by a flash in the hands of 
Chief Murry. 

The actual panic of that yell and its subsequent 
fire alarm was now subsiding in Jane’s mind, and 
instead of Fire the whole situation assumed an 


JUNIOR 


115 


aspect of Ghosts. In spite of her courage she 
was very glad the chief was at her heels, and 
when she finally reached the last narrow step and 
stood under the rafters, Jane Allen sent a sweep- 
ing eye over that dark attic. 

“Not here!” declared the fireman before she 
could see more than the inky blackness of the old 
garret, with only that one spot of moonlight 
pasted on the slanting roof by an invisible win- 
dow. 

As he turned Jane felt obliged to follow, al- 
though she would have been glad to go further 
in and see what it was that moved over by the 
patch of moonlight. Something did move — she 
was sure of that, but a fireman and a chief could 
not be asked to investigate anything but smoke 
or flame, and neither element was discernible, 
so she followed down the box stairway to con- 
front the waiting brigade. 

“Who pulled that box?” demanded Chief Mur- 
ry, angrily. 

“I did,” replied Jane. “But the alarm came 
from within and the students were out before I 
did so.” 

“Well, there’s no fire here!” he announced 
witheringly. “And you young ’uns better get 


JANE ALLEN: 


‘ii6 


indoors. Been in all the sheds and corners, 
Ben?” to his assistant. 

'‘Every inch, and there being no kitchen here, 
’tain’t likely a fire would be tucked away in a 
closet, though we looked thoroughly. Queer 
how the thing happened.” 

Miss Gifford was now trying to march her 
charges back, but a good sized contingent re- 
fused flatly to comply with her orders. They 
answered her quietly but firmly. 

“They would never sleep another night in 
Lenox Hall. If it wasn’t haunted it was surely 
queer.” 

With the courage of juniors Jane and Dozia 
attempted to laugh the whole thing off, but the 
freshmen were determined. 

“How did you get over here?” suddenly de- 
manded little Nellie Saunders of Dozia. ‘“I 
thought it was a rule to stay in your own dorm 
when a first alarm fire gong sounded in another 
building?” 

‘“We were visiting,” replied Jane so quickly 
Nellie thought the reply meant something, and 
was too absorbed in the crisis of the situation to 
further press her question. 

“But you children will be ill!” wailed Miss 


JUNIOR 


117 


Gifford helplessly. ‘‘You simply must come in- 
doors.” 

“Come into the recreation room,” insisted Jane. 
“We won’t ask you to go back upstairs yet.” 

“We just wouldn’t go,” declared Daisy Blaire. 
“If I can’t sleep in another cottage I shall tele- 
graph mamma to come and take me home this 
very night or day, whichever it is.” 

This resolve met with hearty approval, for it 
was seconded from many quarters until open 
revolt or general mutiny seemed imminent. 

The firemen were driving out with the jog trot 
of a false alarm, and ghosts or no ghosts, Jane, 
Dozia and Miss Gifford, each and all realized 
that those frightened children must be persuaded 
to go indoors. Their bare feet alone made the 
matter imperative, if bath robes did somewhat 
lessen the danger from a cold night’s exposure. 

The sudden tingling of the telephone shot an- 
other bolt of terror through them. 

“There, that’s the hall,” said Miss Gifford. 
“At least make it possible for me to report you 
are all safe in Lenox.” 

Jane and Dozia wound arms around a few 
leaders and this with the matron’s appeal firmly 
broke their deadlock and a thin stream of frowzy 


JANE ALLEN: JUNIOR 


ii8 


heads and pretty boudoir robes dripped into the 
old walnut hall. 

Miss Gifford used the telephone at the foot of 
the circular staircase. She was giving a very 
tactfully worded account of the incident to the 
president, and it was very evident the whole oc- 
currence would be conspiciously free of sensation 
if the matron’s verbal report were embodied in 
official records. 

A long drawn out and happily intoned reply 
floated from Miss Gifford’s lips as she half 
turned from the telephone and surveyed Jane 
and Dozia. 

“Oh, yes indeed, they are both here, perfectly 
safe,” she announced, “and I don’t know what I 
should have done without their assistance.” 

So the raiders had been “found missing” at 
Madison Hall! 


CHAPTER XIII 


THE AFTERMATH 

HERE was another panic over in Mad- 



ison,” explained Miss Gifford, after 


leaving the telephone ; “when Miss Allen 
and Miss Dalton were found missing it is a won- 
der someone over there didn’t send out a second 
fire alarm. Miss Fairlie was much relieved to 
know her charges were safe and sound here, and 
I obtained a leave of absence for you for the re- 
mainder of the night,” she finished. The very 
much perturbed matron had no idea of being 
left alone with a flock of obstreperous freshmen. 

“Lovely!” exclaimed Jane, dancing around 
with a group of barefoot girls who threatened to 
turn the occasion into a Greek playlet. 

“Scrumbunctious!” sang out the hallet de 
chamhre, dancing in wild glee now that danger 
of ghosts and firemen had actually passed. 

“But girls,” spoke Dozia, “ did you notice Ihe 
little fat fireman who held that big hose nozzle? 
I do verily believe he was so disappointed he 


120 


JANE ALLEN: 


wanted to hit someone. Just see where his old 
hose scraped my best silken hose. I don’t mean 
that for a parody, but honestly, girls, these were 
the last and final gift from mater. She has con- 
demned me to wear ordinary lisle hereafter, and 
just look at that — stock!” 

‘‘Only dry dust, it will brush off,” soothed 
Jane. “But I say, girls, how about beds!” 

“Beds!” shrieked a chorus. 

“Not a bed!” spoke Nellie Saunders for her 
entire class. “We wouldn’t mind cuddling up 
here on blankets and cushions, but I for one 
shall not mount those spooky stairs this night.” 

“Silly child,” scolded Dozia, her own eyes 
heavy with the ordinary common garden variety 
of sleep. “Would you expect company to do 
all the lugging? Who’s to set up the billet?” 

“Volunteers?” called Jane, and from some- 
where not before observed stepped out little 
Sarah Howland. 

“I shall be glad to help,” she said timidly, and 
instantly a volley of eyes challenged her. 

“Oh, Sally!” exclaimed Dolly Lloyd. “Don’t 
you dare! The spooks would just eat you up. 
You look exactly like a cream puff.” 

Laughter of the most chummy sort followed 
this, and it was evident Sally, in her cream and 


JUNIOR 


I2I 


white striped robe with her yellow hair flowing 
over her shoulders, was a popular girl with her 
companions. 

Jane noticed, however, that her face, usually 
prettily flushed with pink, was now deadly white, 
and also that the child’s eyes shifted in a peculiar- 
ly nervous manner. 

“It’s lovely of you, Sally, and we’ll just set 
a good example while Miss Gifford is searching 
for that miscreant fire. Come along and get the 
swaddling clothes for these babes. Aren’t they 
an unruly lot?” and she tossed off her blue eape 
preparatory for the lugging of couch quilts, pil- 
lows and whatever else might seem useful. 

Sally tripped up the stairs and Jane was after 
her. 

“Do they really mean to sleep in the recrea- 
tion room?” asked the freshman, waiting at a 
landing for Jane. 

“Land knows,” replied Jane, “but I thought 
we had best humor them at least past the pneu- 
monia point. I am thankful they did not all 
break away over the campus to some other build- 
ing. We will probably shame them into going 
back to bed when they see how much trouble 
they are giving. Where might we find the bed 
clothes storeroom?” 


JANE ALLEN: 


i2i 


“Just here to your left. But wait until I 
switch that light.” She reached a button and 
gave the side light its current. Then she stepped 
back to Jane. 

“Miss Allen,” she began in more subdued 
voice, “I just wanted to tell you it was I who 
rang — ^the fire bell!” 

“Oh, did you?” said Jane lightly, following 
the hushed tone of voice, “but where did you 
think the fire was?” 

“I knew there was no fire,” she confessed, “but 
I had to do it to cover those other noises.” 

Jane was mystified, but she realized by Sarah’s 
manner that a complete explanation was not pos- 
sible just then. Here and there a step or a voice 
threatened the snatched confidence. 

“Did you hear that scream?” whispered Jane. 

“lYes, and I — had my room changed to over 
at the foot of the attic stairs just yesterday, but 
— but — oh. Miss Allen, it is too dreadful!” she 
gasped, dropping into a window seat and burst- 
ing into tears. 

“Don’t, dear! Don’t, Sally!” begged Jane. 
“You are all Unnerved. Tomorrow you can tell 
me your fears, if you wish,” Jane qualified. “But 
now let us get back to the girls. They will think 
something dreadful has happened to us.” 


JUNIOR 


123 
= 

“But I can’t teU you, Miss Allen. If I did I 
should have to leave dear old Wellington and 
this — opportunity means so much to me,” and 
again she sobbed convulsively, while Jane put an 
affectionate arm around the little stranger. 

Clapping of hands and calling out foolish 
warnings from below checked Jane’s flow of sym- 
pathy, and presently she stumbled back to the 
recreation room propelling a mountain of blan- 
kets and comfortables. 

“There. Just see what you have done,” she 
charged the students who were instantly strug- 
gling for the blankets to the extent of practically 
disrobing the accommodating Jane. “Leave me 
my blouse, please do. It’s the only real J ersey 
I possess. But aren’t you ashamed to treat 
juniors this way?” 

“Dreadfully!” drawled a girl already rolled 
like a cocoon in a pretty blue “wooley” and coil- 
ing up on a rug in the farthest corner. “Jane 
Allen, you’re a perfect lamb, and I hope you’ll 
stay with us forever.” 

“I am sure I have a congestive chill,” chat- 
tered a fraud of a girl who almost upset Jane in 
the blanket rush. “Give me the pink one. It’s 
my color,” and another tug freed “the pink one” 
from its company of neatly folded coverlets. 


124 


JANE ALLEN: 


“It is a shame,” confessed someone else. 
“Come on upstairs, girls. Let’s defy the ghosts. 
I have always heard they shun a crowd. Where’s 
the crowd? Let’s make them shun us.” 

“Second the motion and hurrah!” added Nellie 
Saunders. “Also we should put a price on that 
ghost’s head — offer a reward for the capture. 
I’m willing to chip in, although as usual I’m a 
little short this week.” 

Dozia had been going over the house with Miss 
Gifford and just then both returned to the rec- 
reation room. 

“Does anyone know where Miss Duncan is — 
Miss Shirley Duncan?” asked the matron, keep- 
ing her pencil at that name on her report pad. 

Jane started involuntarily at the question. 
She had been secretly wondering where the re- 
bellious Shirley was during all the excitement. 

“Oh, yes,” spoke up Margie Winters. “She is 
outside visiting with her folks. She told me this 
afternoon she had obtained permission.” 

“Not from me,” declared Miss Gifford, Then 
as if fearing complications she added more tact- 
fully, “But of course I might not have been with- 
in reach and someone else may have given per- 
mission. Will you just step in here, dear?” to 
Margie. “I want to note what you say of Miss 


JUNIOR 


125 


Duncan’s absence,” and while the reclaimed mu- 
tineers were being actually driven up the stairs 
by Jane, Dozia and the braver element. Miss 
Gifford was obtaining what clue she might as 
to Shirley Duncan’s whereabouts. 

Herded successfully to second floor the visit- 
ing juniors set about distributing their charges 
into beds — any beds in any rooms but “under 
covers” was the order. 

“I can just about picture the parade trooping 
into the infirmary tomorrow,” said Dozia. 
“Here, Betty, this solo cot for yours. It is just 
your cute little size. And those tosies,” with a 
playful thrust at a pair of shivering feet, “I 
think nervous freshies should wear slippers about 
their necks at night — like we used to have our 
mittens on a tape, you know. There,” finished 
the querulous Dozia. “You would have to roll 
down stairs if another alarm sounded. You’re a 
perfectly sealed packet.” Just the tip of Betty’s 
head stuck out of the package. 

Somehow all were finally settled and it was 
Sally — Sarah Howland, who came to the rescue 
of the visitors. 

“But you must rest,” she insisted, only a tell- 
tale pink rim around her blue eyes betraying the 
hysterical collapse she had so lately experienced. 


126 


JANE ALLEN: 


“We are not the least bit afraid,” declared 
Dozia. “In fact, we are rather anxious to meet 
said spook. Which room might be one in prox- 
imity? Where does the big noise seem to come 
from?” 

“No more shows tonight, Dozia,” spoke Jane 
before Sally could answer. “How much do you 
want for your money? Isn’t a fire and a volun- 
teer fireman’s comedy enough?” 

“But I am dreadfully keen on spooks,” she 
was pinching Jane’s arm cruelly, “and I thought 
it was — something weird that set off the original 
alarm.” 

Sally winced. “Here is a nice big bed,” she 
told them nervously, pushing back a door and 
disclosing a tranquil untrammelled room, all neat 
and orderly as if nothing unusual had happened 
in old Lenox. “We call it the guest room but 
rarely have company to occupy it. I am sure 
Miss Gifford will want you two juniors to make 
yourselves at home in it,” finished Sally with a 
quaver. She could not entirely hide the fact of 
her anxiety to get Jane and Dozia behind a closed 
door. Jane might have understood but Dozia 
was perplexed. 

“It’s a lovely room,” faltered Dozia, “but I 


JUNIOR 


127 


feel more like camping out. What time is it, 
anyhow?” 

“About two-thirty A. M.,” said Jane, “and 
since the youngsters are safely tucked in, I be- 
lieve we should take Sally’s advice. This is quite 
sumptious,” folding down the extra white shams 
and coverlet. “Rather a pity to spoil it for such 
a sliver of sleep.” 

Miss Gifford was at the door when Sally glided 
off. “I am so glad you girls are getting to bed,” 
she commended. “What a night we have had? 
And what a mercy you happened to be within 
call? I’m sure I don’t know how you got here 
but I am not worrying about the details. Suffi- 
cient unto the day is the evil, etc., and” — ^with a 
readjustment of her glasses and a closer fold into 
the soft night shawl — “this condition is dread- 
ful. I have tried to fathom the mystery with- 
out troubling the office, but I know now I should 
have reported it before.” (She referred to the 
nocturnal disturbances, of course.) “Don’t fear 
any further alarm, midnight is always the chosen 
hour.” 

“Yes,” blurted Dozia, “we know about it. Miss 
Gifford, and my friend Jane inveigled me into 
this midnight raid. That is really how we got 


128 


JANE ALLEN: 


over here, but I can’t say we have to report prog- 
ress — "stampede’ would be more accurate.” 

‘"But this is only one night,” Jane insisted, 
“and our fire brigade spoiled every possibility of 
investigation. But, Miss Gifford, since we have 
undertaken the task, I should like to propose 
that you give us an opportunity to try our skill 
at it. Suppose” (Jane had in mind the tearful 
face of little Sally) “you give us one more night 
before you turn the alarm in to Miss Rutledge? 
I am sure we can control your girls and get them 
to agree to our plan. In spite of everything, you 
know, they just adore the fun and sensation of 
it all.” 

“Well,” faltered Miss Gifford, weakening, “of 
course I could not risk a repetition of this night’s 
experience ; at the same time I do like to keep my 
records free from appeals to headquarters. It 
is so much more efficient to manage each cottage 
independently, subject to a general system. 
Well, go to bed children and thank you for your 
moral and physical support. We shall discuss 
future plans on the morrow,” she said sweetly. 
Truth to tell Miss Agnes Gifford was a very 
sweet girl — woman, and at the moment both 
Jane and Dozia fell loyally under the spell of 
her charms. 


JUNIOR 


129 


“Say, Dinks!” whispered Dozia from her side 
of the big double bed, “what do you think Judy 
will say to all this?” 

“Judy had her own fun and shouldn’t com- 
plain. Wasn’t she all nicely arrested and tried 
at a regular police court? What’s a spook and 
a fire to that!” 

But Jane knew better. That night at Lenox 
was a “thriller” indeed, and Judith Stearns 
might well envy her chums its experiences. 

Then while Dozia slept Jane wondered. 

What did little Sally Howland mean about 
taking a room at the attic stairs? And how was 
that charming little thing implicated with the 
ghost of Lenox Hall? 

The plot was thickening. Sally did not in any 
way answer to the deceitful type, but some mys- 
terious force seemed to overshadow her. 

“Pretty little thing, with such appealing eyes 
and so honest ” 

Jane slept. 


/ 

CHAPTER XIVi 


\ 


PLEADING FOE TIME 

I T’S a very large order, Jane, but you’re the 
merchant, How on earth do you expect to 
obtain permission to stay at Lenox without 
giving the whole thing away?” 

‘T haven’t an idea, but depend on old friend 
Circumstances to bob something up. It is won- 
derful how very simple it is to flim-flam a philos- 
opher. They never seem to suspect intrigue and 
walk right into the trap. I’ve tried it before with 
Rutledge! she’s a lamb if you watch your ba-as.” 

It was ‘‘the morning after” and that trite 
phrase surely fitted the occasion, Jane had 
dragged Dozia from her dreams in spite of 
threats and defiance, and now both juniors were 
on their way back to the dining hall at Madison. 

“Rather different from the last tramp we took 
over this prairie,” said Jane, “but as a thriller 
you can’t beat midnight moonlight.” 

“Not that I’d care to,” Dozia answered with- 
eringly. “I can’t see that the adventure ‘got us 


JANE ALLEN: JUNIOR 


131 

anywhere’ as higher Tom would say. I haven’t 
any brother, you know, Jane dear, but it always 
sounds better to blame one’s slang on him, don’t 
you think?” 

“I’m positive,” said Jane, “but I have a trick 
of blaming mine on Judy. Wonder will she 
sleep all day because I, the faithful alarm clock, 
did not go off at her ear. There’s the bell! I’m 
not very hungry. As an appetiser I think a night 
such as the last rather a flivver.” 

“Isn’t it? I have that widely advertised gone 
feeling myself. Here’s a chance to duck in with- 
out being noticed.” 

“We were out for early exercise,” prompted 
Jane significantly, “and don’t be too intelligent 
about that fire when they ask.” 

“ ‘Deef’ and dumb,” quibbled Dozia. “Thank 
you for the party, Jane. I had a lov-el-ly time.” 

“Don’t mention it,” whispered Jane, as the 
line of students swallowed the two adventurers. 

But the day was “fraught with questions,” 
as Judith Stearns put it, deploring her own in- 
ability to obtain any “intelligent account of the 
whole performance.” It became known early 
that the two juniors who had been searched for 
during the night, were not others than J ane and 
Dozia, but even a veritable grilling at the hands 


132 


JANE ALLEN: 


of a picked corps of sophs brought nothing more 
definite from the wayfarers than ‘‘they were over 
visiting Lenox and the ‘fire’ was a false alarm.” 

“And of course we couldn’t put our heads out, 
for fear of panic,” grumbled Nettie Brocton. 

The day passed somehow, and it was conspicu- 
ous by an entire absence of freshmen from the 
usual intermingling between periods. Even to 
Jane the reason for this was not clear until, in 
a burst of confidence with Judith, she outlined 
her plan of staying over at Lenox “until the 
ghost business was disposed of.” 

“Oh, I know,” she explained while Judith 
pondered. “Miss Gifford is keeping them home 
to prevent them gabbing. That’s darling of her. 
She wants to give me — ^the newly discovered 
spook sleuth — a decent chance. Are you com- 
ing over with me tonight, Judy?” 

“Cables couldn’t hold me back. Dinksy, you 
bribed me into staying home last night but I’ll 
never again ‘list’ to your blarney. But it wasn’t 
goblins I believe ; however, we’ll decide that when 
we trap ’em. Your benign influence has worked 
well thus far. I promised to help a freshie with 
some Latin prose and she never came to collect. 
Now I suppose I have to spoil my pretty hands 
with basket ball. Don’t you wonder how it was 


WNIOR 


133 


we used to love that unladylike game?” Judith 
assumed a most sedate attitude, but did not suc- 
ceed in hiding a forlorn rent in her skirt even 
with a very broad palm plastered over it. 

“ ‘Ye strangers on my native sill tread lightly 
for I love it still,’ ” quoted Jane. “Seems to me 
you take about as much pleasure in the big game 
as you ever did, Judy. But let’s away! We need 
it. I’m all stiffened up with ” 

“Your night of terror,” finished Judith. “I 
don’t wonder. Anyone might be sore and achey 
from running that Bingham Fire Brigade. I 
would love to have seen Dozia at the spigot,” and 
Judith went through some fii’e antics. “Come 
along, Jane; we’ll give the recruits a try-out,” 
she decided the next moment, “but don’t ask me 
to put them through the paces again tomorrow, 
for that’s to be an afternoon off, if I can arrange 
it.” 

“Oh,” said Jane tritely. 

“Yes, oh,” repeated Judith most impressive- 
ly and with a grimace that supplied more than 
mere punctuation. 

Jane laughed and pushed the big girl ahead 
of her with sudden playful force. 

“Choo-choo! the fire is out and we’re going 


134 


JANE ALLEN: 


home,” she laughed. ‘‘This is just about the 
speed of the little red hose cart.” 

“Wait a minute!” called Judith, halting so 
suddenly she almost threw Jane. “I would rath- 
er be the driver if you don’t mind.” 

“Young ladies!” protested one of the faculty, 
Miss Roberts, she who taught English and 
looked the part. “Is not that rather boisterous 
for indoor play?” 

The culprits choked an appropriate reply and 
resumed the usual “indoor” behavior. 

“One thing I hate knowledge for,” remarked 
Jane, “it makes one so inhuman.” 

“Yes, doesn’t it? We may break our precious 
necks in the gym and be buried with military 
honors but we ‘dassent’ skin a shin anywhere else. 
System, of course,” witheringly from Dozia. 

“Quick!” exclaimed Jane. “There are Nettie 
and Janet heading this way. They’ll want me to 
tell the whole of last night’s experience over 
again. Let’s get at practice and preclude the 
recitation. I feel like singing the story to the 
tune of the ‘Night Before Christmas,’ it’s get- 
ting so monotonous.” 

“You have no appreciation for thrills, Jane 
Allen,” chided Judith. “That yarn will stand 
telling for months to come. I’ve noticed your 


JUNIOR 


135 


variations, however, and can see the effort wea- 
ries you. But say, Dinksy, tonight is the night 
and Lenox is the place. After that, if you like. 
I’ll take up the thread of your famous ghost 
story, and you may refer all inquiries to me.” 
The last word of this peroration was all but lost 
on stone walls, for the oncoming horde seized 
Jane and, exactly as she feared, demanded fur- 
ther details of the big night. 

“And did you really see a ghost?” begged Win- 
ifred Ayres with a perfectly flagrant relish of 
the sordid details. 

“Packs of ’em,” evaded Jane. 

“Safety in numbers,” remarked Nettie Broc- 
ton. “That’s my mother’s argument for large 
gatherings. All right, Jane, we’ll let you off, 
but we have our opinion of such utter selfishness. 
There’s the scrub team all lined up outside the 
gym. I suppose they also are waiting to hear the 
story.” 

“Save me from my audience!” wailed Jane, 
falling into convenient arms. “Why not install 
a ghost in Madison if you are all so keen on it? 
I can’t see how you expect one paltry spook to 
cover the entire campus.” 

“Oh, Jane! Miss Allen, Jane!” called the 
girls from that basketball line. “We’ve decided 


136 


JANE ALLEN: 


to beg oflf from practice this afternoon, if you 
don’t mind. We all want to go to the village to 
see the sights.” It was Inez Wilson who acted 
as spokesman and Inez was quite capable of or- 
ganizing “a lot of fun” in seeing the village 
sights. 

“What’s new?” demanded Judith. 

“Oh, something,” insinuated Mabel Peters. 

“Are we debarred? Too old and cranky or 
something like that ?” teased Jane. Her hair was 
bursting from her cap like an over-ripe thistle, 
and her cheeks were velvety in a rich glow of 
early winter tints. She hardly looked too old 
even for skipping rope just then. 

“Of course everyone may come who wants 
to,” Inez condescended, “but juniors usually 
don’t enjoy henning (shopping).” 

“I adore it,” insisted Jane. “Do let us tag on 
and we’ll buy the peanuts. But this really was 
to be an important afternoon at the baskets. 
However do you children expect to maintain the 
honor of Wellington if you do not keep fit? 
Now when I was center ” 

“Hear! Hear! Hear!” interrupted Mabel. 
“Remember that famous song, T know a girl and 
her name was Jane’!” 

“A rebold ribald rowdy!” shouted a chorus. 


JUNIOR 


137 


But Jane was escaping — running down the 
walk with hands clapped over her ears to shut 
out the memories of her earlier years when that 
refrain was quite too popular to be enjoyable. 

Outside the big gate an auto horn honked, and 
the students drew back to give the big car ap- 
proaching full sweep of the country roadway. 
Then another horn sounded, and from the oppo- 
site direction a smart little run-about was seen 
cutting in at high speed. Both drivers saw their 
danger and both jammed brakes. The big car 
rolled to the gutter while the runabout picked 
up speed and shot by safely. This brought the 
touring car to the curb where the Wellingtons 
stood watching, and a glance at the seats showed 
these occupants : 

Dol Vin driving, Shirley Duncan at her side, 
and a rather elderly country couple spread over 
the big back seat. 

“Shirley’s folks!” whispered Inez. “We heard 
they were in town seeing the sights, and hoped 
we would run across them.” This was evidently 
the “something” hinted at in the soph’s outline 
of the “henning” party. 

Dolorez Vincez was too clever to show embar- 
rassment, and Shirley Duncan was too cruel to 
hide it. She plainly was urging the driver on. 


I3B 


JANE 'ALLEN: 


“That’s your college, darter, ain’t it?” the 
girls could hear the elderly woman ask Shirley, 
but they did not hear the latter’s answer. Dolo- 
rez called, “Hello, girls,” as she swung her car 
out again in the dusty roadway, and the “darter” 
deprived that little woman of her coveted infor- 
mation, 

“She said hello!” announced Judith. 

“Sweet of her,” remarked Jane, but she was 
thinking of Shirley’s absence from Lenox on the 
night of the fire, and wondering if the indiffer- 
ent freshman had been absent during all the day 
as well? 

“Hurry, hurry!” begged Mabel Peters. 
“What a lark to meet them at the drug store. 
They’ll be sure to want hot chocolate.” 

“I would guess at tea,” drawled Judith, “but 
it’s sure to be some sort of drink. Come along 
and we may get a chance to return that cordial 
hello.” 

“I’m not going,” suddenly determined Jane. 
“All go along if you like but I’m not going to 
lap up any more of that sickening chocolate. I’ve 
taken the pledge until next allowance day,” and 
she turned back to Wellington entrance. 

Judith, quick to interpret Jane’s moods, knew 


JUNIOR 




the excuse covered a more serious consideration 
and stepped back to ask “why?” 

“That daughter is ashamed of those country 
parents,” Jane made chance to answer Judith, 
“and it would be horrid to spoil their opinion of 
us. Delay the girls a while and Dol will have 
gone through town safely.” 

“But isn’t it dreadful she has such influence 
over that rebel freshman?” commented Judith, 
slowly following the flock of students headed for 
^the village. “How are we going to stop it?” 

“I don’t know,” confessed Jane, “but we must 
stop it some way. Just because she has a claim 
on my — patronage is no reason why she should 
disgrace Wellington, You go along with the 
youngsters, Judy, and I’ll go right up to the 
office now and unburden my conscience.” Jane’s 
red haired disposition was asserting itself. 
“Think of the hair bleaching, then the police 
farce, and now out riding with that traitor, I’m 
going to tell Miss Rutledge the whole thing!” 
and no argument of Judith’s could dissuade her. 

She turned back into the college grounds and 
struck a gait calculated to bring her up to that 
office in short order, and was more than half way 
through the campus when a small voice called out 
her name. 


140 


JANE ALLEN: 


‘‘Miss Allen!” 

She turned to a side path, following the call, 
and faced Sally Howland. 

“Just a minute. Miss Allen, please,” pleaded 
the strange little freshman. Jane waited till 
she reached her, then smiled into the serious face 
of Sally. 

“Hello, girlie,” Jane greeted her. “What’s 
the excitement?” 

“You were so splendid last night. Miss Allen,” 
panted Sarah Howland, “and I am so ashamed to 
have to deceive you as you must see I am doing.” 
A flush suffused her pale face and she dropped 
her eyes in pained self-consciousness. “But just 
— now — for this little while — I can’t see what 
else I am going to do!” she stopped and her hands 
twitched miserably at her knitted scarf. Evi- 
dently the attempt at confession was more dif- 
ficult than she had anticipated. 

“Don’t distress yourself, dear,” Jane soothed. 
“I realize you know something of the queer hap- 
penings at Lenox, and I can see you have some 
strong motive for withholding the explanation. 
There is a reason, of course, and I have faith 
in your sincerity. After all, Wellington is quite 
a little city in itself, and we are bound to meet 


JUNIOR 


141 

queer problems here. I am on my way to the 
office now to get one off my mind.” 

‘‘Oh, please, Miss Allen, don’t report — Shir- 
ley Duncan,” she stumbled and stuttered over 
the name. “I know she is doing queer things but 
she is such a — a country girl, and has never had 
any chances ” 

“Did you know her before she came to Wel- 
lington?” asked Jane directly. 

“No, yes, that is I knew her just before we 
came,” replied the girl, very much confused and 
plainly embarrassed. 

“I have noticed you seem to be friends,” Jane 
pressed. 

“Yes, sort of. But I do not agree with her in 
her attitude toward college life,” replied Sarah 
hurriedly — markedly so. She was trying to shift 
the subject, Jane saw that plainly. 

“It’s good of you to plead for her,” com- 
mented Jane, “but you see, my dear, juniors 
are quite grown up and are expected to uphold 
the college traditions. We really can’t consider 
an individual where a college principle is con- 
cerned.” Jane had her eye on Madison and was 
shifting to move that way. The freshman laid a 
detaining hand on her arm. 

“If you could just — ^be persuaded to wait until 


142 


TANE ALLEN: 


after mid-year,” she said, “perhaps then — things 
might look differently.” 

“But Sally, you know I saw you run out of 
that prohibited beauty shop, and you must know 
we Wellingtons in good standing do not patron- 
ize that place!” 

This accusation startled Sarah. She dropped 
Jane’s arm and all but gasped: “When did you 
see me there?” 

“The day of that absurd police business when 
my friend Miss Steams was so humiliated,” Jane 
said severely. 

“Oh, Miss Allen,” and tears welled into 
Sarah’s eyes. “I can’t explain, and I am so mis- 
erable. Perhaps — perhaps I should not 

try ” Tears choked the wretched girl, and 

Jane relented at sight of her misery. 

“Really, Sally,” she changed her tone, “I do 
feel awfully sorry to see a freshman in distress, 
and I am sure I do not want to add to it. I 
won’t go to the office now, if that will make you 
feel better, but I simply must do all I can to 
solve the mystery of the horrible night noises 
at Lenox. Here come the girls from their hike ; 
dry your eyes and try to look pleasant.” 

Jane did not relish yielding; she had passed 
that childish stage, when “to give in” seemed 


JUNIOR 


143 


noble; it was now a question of expediency, 
which was best? Should she go on and unburden 
her own conscience just because she had decided 
to do so, or should she follow the pleadings of 
this girl without having an intelligent reason? 

Something stronger than psycho-analysis 
(Jane’s new field of study) forced her to look 
deeply into the tear-stained blue eyes of Sarah 
Howland, and that same mystic power, older and 
surer than theory, compelled Jane to reply: 

‘‘All right, Sally. I’ll wait a while. It’s all 
very queer but even queer things are sometimes 
reasonable,” and she threw an affectionate arm 
about the little freshman as she turned her back 
on the judicial ofiice in the big, gray stone build- 
ing. 


CHAPTER XVi 


THE PICKET AND THE SPOOK 

OT going to bed at all, Janey?” queried 



Judith, letting her hair fall over her 


shoulders and shaking her head like a 


happy care-free Collie, “This bed is too inviting 
to slight that way. I never knew that old spooky 
Lenox was so gorgeously equipped.” Judith was 
testing the comforts of the big double bed in the 
guest chamber of Lenox Hall, the same that wel- 
comed Jane and Dozia on the night previous. 

‘T am not going to run the risk of missing 
an5rthing,” Jane answered from her place in the 
big cushioned steamer chair. “This is very com- 
fortable and I am all dressed ready to dive after 
the least suspicious sound. Besides, I’m not a 
bit sleepy — ^gone past my sleep, as Aunt Mary 
would say.” 

“I don’t want to desert you,” volunteered 
Judith, “and it doesn’t seem just the thing for 
me to turn into this downy bed while you sit 
there like a sentinel. But truth to tell I am 


144 


JANE ALLEN: JUNIOR 


145 


shamefully human and just counting on thirty 
winks before the ghost walks. Be sure to call 
me at the very first hint. Of course you will 
want to bag him personally, Jane, but I’ll be 
glad to help you pull the draw string.” 

It was drawing close to the tainted hour, and 
Jane sat there wondering how one single day 
could seem as long as that just past. She had 
no idea of admitting what part actual fatigue 
can play in one’s perspective, neither would she 
have owned to nerves as the cause of her un- 
natural wakefulness; nevertheless these were 
both factors in her almost painful alertness. 

“At least now I have a chance to think,” she 
temporized, “and I wish I could solve the mys- 
tery of Sally Howland’s peculiar connection with 
Shirley Duncan.” 

They were so unlike, so foreign in disposition 
and character; not relatives, and Sally even dis- 
claimed any previous acquaintance with the coun- 
try girl. Then Sally’s attempt to forestall the 
midnight noises by taking the shunned room at 
the very foot of the dreaded attic stairs — what 
could that mean? 

Jane pondered feebly, and feeling just the 
least bit drowsy she left her place in the steamer 
chair to get a drink of water in the lavatory. It 


146 


7ANE ALLEN: 


would not do to actually fall asleep “at the 
switch.” 

iVoices from the end of the hall near Sally’s 
room forced their way into the corridor as she 
glided past, and the unmistakable tone of Shir- 
ley Duncan riveted Jane’s attention. 

“You’re too silly,” she was insisting, no doubt 
to little Sally. “Don’t I give you enough? 
Here’s something daddy gave me. You may 
have it. Now do be a good, sensible little girl.” 

A pause, perhaps a remonstrance, for the voice 
took up its cue again. 

“Of course you must have plenty of use for 
it. Don’t be a goose. Kitten. You know how 
much I care about the old moldy college. But 
I’m bound to get something for my money.” 

J ane was at the lavatory door now but she did 
not at once enter. Surely, under the circum- 
stances it was permissible to listen to the un- 
guarded voice of Shirley Duncan. And she 
called Sally “Kitten!” 

“For mercy’s sake don’t start to howj,” it 
came again. “I can stand anything but that. It 
is all working beautifully and I guess before I 
quit I’ll be able to show them that a country girl 
isn’t such a simp as they imagine.” 

“Miss Allen is here tonight,” Jane next heard 


JUNIOR 


147 


Sally say, ‘‘and you know what that means, Bob- 
bie.” 

“As if I care for her,” and a scornful laugh 
made the meaning clearer. There were other 
words but Jane had heard enough. The men- 
tion of her own name seemed to charge her 
honor, and the belated drink of refreshing water 
was quickly drawn. 

Back in the steamer chair Jane had new cause 
to ponder. What was the threat or power Shir- 
ley held over little Sally? And to bribe her with 
money? Also the affectionate “Kitten” and 
“Bobbie”? 

The wind was stirring, but everything human 
now seemed withdrawn from activity around 
Lenox. Jane was waiting, listening for what? 
The frightened freshmen seemed secure tonight 
in their dormitories, assured of protection by 
Jane and Judith, two of the bravest girls in all 
Wellington. Also they had been promised a 
solution of the noise mystery and was not that in 
itself sufficient alleviative? 

The clock in the hall tingled a chime, sweet al- 
most playful music for the elves of midnight and 
a challenge to baser intruders. Jane must have 
dozed when she suddenly became conscious of 
something 


148 


JANE ALLEN: 


Was it a noise? She listened, alert and all but 
quivering in anticipation. There never had been 
any question of actual danger surrounding the 
weird happenings, but now that she faced the 
mystery something very like panic seized her. 

Yes — again! That was surely something 

metallic! 

“Quick, Judy!” she roused the sleeping gild 
on the bed. “Follow me. There it is — begin- 
ning.” 

“Where! What!” Judith sat up and snatched 
her robe. 

“I’m going to the attic. I am sure it is up 
there!” and Jane flew out quietly, in fact noise- 
lessly, into the dimly lighted hall. 

A queer rumbling sound came from some- 
where. Jane could not locate it for it seemed 
shut in, walled up! It was mechanical yet muf- 
fled! 

Judith reached Jane as she stood listening. 

“Where is it?” she whispered. 

“I — can’t tell,” Jane replied. “Pass around 
the turn into the linen room. We can reach the 
stairs that way.” 

“Not — going up alone!” breathed Judith. 

“Why not? It’s some lark of the girls, you 


JUNIOR 


149 


may be sure, and I’m going to find out what it 
is now.” 

“But it’s dark,” cautioned Judith. 

“I have my flash. Listen!” 

“Oh,” groaned Judith, clutching Jane’s arm, 
for a rattling of something like chains was now 
distinctly audible. 

“Hush!” breathed Jane, laying her fingers 
lightly on the door knob of the boxed in stair- 
way. The next moment there was a crash and 
both girls darted up the stairs. 

“It was over that way!” insisted Judith, but 
in the darkness, with nothing but Jane’s flash to 
guide them, it was impossible to tread safely 
through the attic, which was stored with all sorts 
of discarded materials. 

“Wait a minute,” whispered Jane, her heart 
pounding and nerves almost jumping. 

They stood breathless, but not a move an- 
swered the silence. 

“Come down; do, Jane,” begged Judith, shiv- 
ering in actual fear. 

“Wait a few minutes,” insisted Jane. “What- 
ever it is they know we are here!” 

“Jane!” breathed the other, “I am honestly 
ready — ^to faint.” 

“Nonsense, just a few minutes.” Jane could 


150 


JANE ALLEN: 


feel her companion tremble as she clung to her 
arm. 

But not a sound nor a move rewarded their 
brave defiance. 

“If only this place had a light,” Jane whis- 
pered. “I suppose there is a bulb somewhere.” 
She remembered that the fireman found none, 
however, and tonight even the patch of moon- 
light was not there. It really would have been 
foolhardy to attempt to go further into the low- 
beamed room, at the risk of running into attack, 
and evidently the noise had not been heavy 
enough to arouse anyone else in the Hall, for no 
sound of moving about came from the lower 
floors. 

“Do come down,” begged Judith again, tak- 
ing two steps herself on the stairs. 

“No, I shan’t,” insisted Jane. “I can wait as 
long as they can.” 

As if that gave a cue for action a rope — surely 
it was a rope — creaked and groaned and the 
rumbling heard first sounded again — somewhere, 
it seemed from the very roof. 

“There!” said Jane. “They’re gone and they 
went by that rope. Come on down. We can’t 
do anything in this darkness,” and, now satis- 
fied that the “ghost” had been scared off, she fol- 


JUNIOR 


Hi 

lowed J udith’s precipitous escape down, and into 
the lower hallway. 

“What was it? Did you catch him? We heard 
it? Where is it?” 

To the astonishment of the two juniors the 
halls were dotted with heads thinist out of half 
closed doors, and the alarmed freshmen opened 
this volley of questions before Jane and Judith 
had recovered their breath. 

“No, we did not get it,” replied Judith, “but 
we scared it oflF, and I have my opinion of a ghost 
afraid of two unarmed juniors.” Judy was very 
brave now, and rather proud of it. 

“Young ladies! Young ladies!” Miss Gif- 
ford was expostulating. “You promised to stay 
in your rooms tonight.” 

“Oh, they are very good girls. Miss Gifford,” 
Jane attested, “and I can assure them that friend 
spook is a rank coward and has gone by way of 
a pulled rope. Any pulleys loose around this 
place?” 

“No, we have looked for such things,” declared 
the matron. “But please, girls, go back to bed, 
and if anything else happens I promise to call 
you.” This was a rash promise for Miss Gifford 
to make, but she felt the urgency of getting those 
questioning heads back on their respective pil- 


152 


JANE ALLEN: 


lows and so was willing to make concessions. 

‘‘Come in my room,” she said aside to Jane and 
Judith, and they both followed her to the open 
door. 

“That certainly is a noise made by someone 
who gets up to that attic,” insisted Jane without 
waiting for inquiries, “and I am sure the sounds 
are made by metal chains.” 

“That’s the weird part of it,” interposed 
Judith. 

“Why are chains more formidable than ropes?” 
asked Jane. “And in an old place like this is it 
would not be hard to pick up a chain or two, and 
you know, Judy, one old chain could make a fear- 
ful noise.” 

“Yes — hut — ^how does anyone get up there?” 
demanded Judith. 

“That’s the mystery,” admitted the matron, 
who had insisted on the girls remaining while the 
students quieted down and were safe once more 
until daylight. “We have looked all over the 
place, of course, and have not been able to find 
any hidden way of making ascent to that attic.” 

“Airship,” suggested Judith foolishly. 

“See how quickly the noise ceased,” remarked 
Jane. “Someone recognized us, Judy, and has 
flown before our vengeance.” 


JUNIOR 


«53 


“Be that as it may,’’ added Miss Gifford with 
a smile of assurance, “I am convinced this thing 
is being done out of jealousy or even revenge. 
You see, I am a new matron here, and when I 
came I put into execution such rules as I have 
been trained to follow. That made changes in 
our staff and a few dismissals. Such action is 
sure to stir up the wrath of someone, but even 
with that as a basis, and with all the detective 
skill I have been able to operate, I must confess 
I am baffled. This very minute our janitor would 
be found in his quarters over the stables, for I 
have phoned him there. And for the past week 
I have gone over the ground with him personally, 
he and his wife when they lock up. She is one of 
the day workers here,” explained Miss Gifford. 

Jane felt urged to tell of the shadowy figure 
she and Dozia had seen creeping about the ever- 
greens, but quickly decided the indefinite detail 
would add little actual explanation. Instead she 
said: 

“We could do nothing in the dark, but just 
wait until daylight. I have to sleep, of course, 
we are getting ready for our midyear exams, but 
just wait until two-thirty tomorrow afternoon 
after logic. Then expect me over here with — 


154 


JANE ALLEN: 


perhaps a shotgun if I can find such a weapon 
on the premises!” 

“But what would you shoot in daylight?” 
asked Judith, half jokingly. 

“Even suspicion,” replied Jane, “but my chief 
concern would be to find the way friend spook 
gets up into that attic and where he comes from. 
Good night. Miss Gifford, we will follow the 
f reshies now, and I’m so sleepy it would take 
more noise than that first bombardment made 
to arouse me.” 

“Good night, my dears, and thank you so much 
for your wonderful support,” said Miss Gifford. 

“Support!” repeated Judith, back again in the 
guest room. “I suppose she considers the ghost 
her opponent?” 

“I don’t,” said Jane cryptically. “I consider 
it the opponent of all Wellington.” 

“And I suppose, Janie, you are blaming me 
for holding you back in the attic?” sleepily from 
J udith. 

“No, I’m not, Judy. You have no idea what 
a coward I am at heart; but somehow you girls 
have taken a notion I should do things and I 
can’t bear to disappoint you. I must admit this 
is fa^^cinating. I like it better even than golf. 


JUNIOR 


111 

and will also give up my canter on Firefly this 
afternoon to see it through.” 

‘‘Oh Jane, don’t do that!” objected Judith. 
“We were all going out to Big Rock and have 
the horses engaged.” 

“I’m sorry, Judy, but I’ve gotten into this 
thing and I have just got to get out of it or I’ll 
begin to believe in real spooks. I simply can’t 
let it drag me down another twenty-four hours.” 
She brushed her wavy red gold hair viciously. 
“You may take Firefly. He knows your saddle 
and will behave, I’m sure. That will give some- 
one else your horse.” 

“Maud Leslie is crazy to ride but has no habit 
here,” commented Judith significantly. 

“Help her to mine,” responded Jane prompt- 
ly. “She isn’t far from my size.” 

“But I wouldn’t want to go galloping for nuts 
while you stay here alone hunting for spooks,” 
Judith said loyally. “Better let two girls take 
our places if you insist on staying out.” 

“Oh, no, dear. I’m only going to look around 
for some sort of trap entrance to Lenox. Besides, 
you know Dozia doesn’t ride, and she’ll be here.” 

“All right, love. I’ll leave you with Dozia if 
you insist. She’s big enough to take care of you 
at any rate. Do you imagine Miss Gifford has 


156 


JANE ALLEN: JUNIOR 


materialized some domestic enemy in her change 
of staff? And that this super-conscious fired 
janitor or furnace man is operating against her?” 

“I don’t know, Judy,” sighed Jane. ‘‘Looks 
to me more loosely organized than that. Besides, 
even a fired furnace man would keep union hours 
at one fifty per. No, I think you’ll find the eter- 
nal female back of that racket, it’s too tempera- 
mental for masculine action.” 


CHAPTER XVI 


THE HIDDEN CHAMBER 

W AS this Wellington and was Jane 
Allen, the darling of the gym and the 
record maker for basket-ball, now so 
prone on solving a perplexing noise mystery that 
her games were cancelled and even her riding 
hours filled in with mundane matters, while her 
companions flew away to gather mountain nuts 
and wonderful complexions? 

Jane’s defiant laugh answered this very per- 
sonal question. She was proud and she was 
fiery, and someone had been trying to discredit 
her father’s scholarship. Of course that “some- 
one” was Dolorez Vincez, the expelled junior of 
the previous year. Every clue pointed its accus- 
ing finger at Dol Vin. She it was who brought 
those two freshmen, Shirley and Sarah, togeth- 
er at her beauty shop. It was she also who “took 
care” of Shirley’s folks when they came in to 
see the “darter,” and everyone who knew Dol 
knew, also, that these little attentions must have 
157 


JANE ALLEN: 


been rather costly to the country folks, for Dol 
always made things pay. 

In the back of Jane’s mind there was growing 
the germ of suspicion toward that same triangle 
in the spook alarms. Dol, Shirley and Sarah 
must be somewhere in that demonstration, but 
Jane had to admit the clues were not developing 
with such speed as she usually counted on in col- 
lege mysteries. 

But perhaps this one more day would unearth 
something tangible. At any rate, the parties and 
teas and sorority dances were getting into swing, 
and even a fascinating ghost would soon h^ve 
to be turned over to the proper authorities, 
thought Jane, if he did not quickly become more 
co-operative with the juniors. 

Work was serious and exacting. Every period 
had a record of its own, and while Jane was 
specializing in sociology she was also keeping up 
with the regular college course for her A. B. 
degree. 

Promptly after logic dismissed, at two-thirty, 
she sought out Dozia. “Come along, Doze,” 
begged J ane, “don’t let us waste a moment. The 
girls are all busy now, and perhaps we can make 
a survey without having a ballet de follies danc- 
ing around.” Dozia made her note book safe and 


JUNIOR 


159 


swung into Jane’s trot for Lenox. Warburton 
Hall, one of the larger buildings, was just empty- 
ing a class from lecture but Jane and Dozia made 
a complete detour of it to escape attention. 

Lenox was deserted, but in less than half an 
hour it was sure to be swarmed with freshmen 
running in after classes for a change of blouse, 
or some other requirement of the day now three- 
fourths spent. 

‘‘Let us get a line on that old tower,” sug- 
gested Jane, surveying the secretive old building. 
“I know the racket was in that wing, and see how 
the round tower begins here and shoots up past 
all that outside plumbing? I know Lenox was 
one time a show building here, hut freshies have 
got to have some place to sleep, hence the retro- 
gression.” 

“Things are pretty well trodden down around 
here,” reported Dozia, sending a critical eye over 
the little terrace that supported the old stone 
tower. “Squirrels do not usually wear French 
heels. See those footprints, Jane?” 

In the strong sun a film of soft earth showed 
the impress of something quite like the pivoted 
French heel. This was in a small space from 
which floral bulbs had been removed and yrhere 


i6o JANE ALLEN: 


the sheltering round tower had kept off the 
early winter frosts. 

“Seems to me,” said Jane, “there is some sort 
of cubby hole under here.” She was poking 
around the vine-roped foundation. 

“Oh, you see they take cellar stuff out that 
window,” explained Dozia. “It saves steps. See 
the trail of ashes over there?” 

“Yes, but that doesn’t come from this point, 
that does come from the window. But I mean 
this spot here,” she was tapping on a frame in 
which the squares formed the foundation of the 
building, and where the wooden arches had been 
originally painted a contrasting color for the 
sake of trimming. 

“You can always push those lattice pieces in,” 
said Dozia. “That was the charmed spot for 
hide and seek I’ll guess, when Wellington was 
in rompers.” 

“Just look here!” ordered Jane in a very defi- 
nite tone of voice. “This is more than a cubby 
hole.” She was pulling at a piece of rope strung 
through a broken staple. Nothing remained but 
the iron loop over which the old time outside pad- 
lock was usually snapped. Jane pulled so vig- 
orously she opened the hidden door and toppled 
over backward with the broken rope in her hand. 


JUNIOR 


i6i 


Dozia was in front of the opening before Jane 
could get to her feet. 

“Well, of all — ^things!” she drawled. “If here 
isn’t some sort of old elevator!” 

“A dumb-waiter!” cried Jane. “There are 
my groaning ropes. Pull, Doze, and let’s see if 
it carries a car.” 

A couple of jerks at the big cables and the car 
came down to earth with a bump. 

“Now!” exclaimed Jane gleefully. “There’s 
the mystery. This airship goes right up into 
that tower!” 

“But don’t you dare ask me to make the 
ascent,” warned Dozia. “The tower may be thick 
with ghosts as a chimney with swallows.” 

“But think of it,” rattled on Jane. “That old 
hidden dumb-waiter! Why have we never dis- 
covered it before ?” 

“Didn’t need it,” said Dozia. “Wouldn’t have 
a bit of use for if now except to save you from 
getting gray headed and dalfy over spooks. 
Come along indoors and look at the tower from 
the other end. This elevator must have a ‘last 
stop, all out’ platform some place,” drawled Do- 
zia, as calmly as if a great part of the mystery 
had not just been successfully cleared up. 

“But I’m not afraid fo go up,” declared J ane. 


i 62 


JANE ALLEN: 


almost dancing with excitement, “and the eh - 
vator works by pulling the ropes from the in- 
side.” 

“Don’t you dare, Jane Allen!” cautioned the 
imperturbable Dozia. “You might get half way 
up and stick in a smoke stack, or a rope might 
break or anything of a large variety of possibili- 
ties might occur. I can’t be a party to your sui- 
cide pact. Walk right up the red carpeted stairs 
with little bright-eyed Dozia, and view the 
tower from the objective.” She took Jane’s arm 
and dragged her around to the side door, which 
stood invitingly opened. 

By way of the red carpeted stairs they went 
as far as the attic flight, and from that point 
tramped plain unvarnished and well worn 
“treads” which Dozia took two at a time. 

In the attic, daylight dispelled many of the 
night’s fancies. For instance, the big black 
things in the corner were only stored trunks, those 
shadowy forms hanging from rafters were Miss 
Gifford’s best summer togs in their tailored moth 
bags, and the thing that glistened in the moon- 
light like horrible eyes in a ghastly face, were al- 
most that very thing, for some hallow’een trap- 
pings hung right under the window, a veritable 
trap for spectral moonlight. 


JUNIOR 


= 

Jane smiled. ‘‘These things had Judy and 
me scared blue last night. They actually seemed 
to point long bony fingers at us, but behold! 
nothing more sinister than a lot of storage stuff.” 

Dozia was over in the other end of the low raft- 
ered room looking for the dumb-waiter “objec- 
tive,” but there appeared to be nothing of the 
sort either in bricked chimney wall or along 
weather-boarded partitions. 

“I can’t see where that tower ends,” she said. 
“See, Jane, this is nothing but a straight wall, 
and the tower surely is built round.” 

Jane surveyed the brown boarded wall. “But 
this is not all the attic,” she exclaimed. “See how 
narrow Jhis room is and gauge the size of the 
building. There must be another attic back of 
those boards and that fire brick wall. Now, how 
do you suppose one reaches the other side?” 

“Via dummy,” said Dozia. “But no little 
jaunt in that flivver for me. No indeed, Janie, 
not even to bag a real, live, active, untamed 
spook.” They were both tapping along the 
boarded partition but had found no evidence of 
an opening. “Say, Jane,” whispered Dozia, her 
brown eyes wide with pretended fright, “suppose 
some awful creature is hidden in there and that 


164 


lANE ALLEN: 


she has her meals served from the old dumb- 
waiter?’^ 

Jane howled at this and danced around in cruel 
imitation of a possible “awful creature.” That 
she tore a hole in her skirt from contact with an 
unfriendly nail mattered little, for the dance took 
in the length of the attic between trunks, boxes, 
disabled chairs and even dodged an ancient sew- 
ing machine. 

“An attic party is attractive under certain con- 
ditions,” Jane repeated. “I thought once I saw 
something move over this way. Let me look 
there more carefully.” 

“Look away,” replied Dozia, falling limply 
into a very uncertain old willow porch rocker. 

Jane pulled aside some curtain stretchers, then 
pried from its corner an old Japanese screen. 

“There!” she yelled. “There’s the door, now 
we’re getting to it. Dozia, look, a real door into 
the other attic,” and she paid no attention to the 
noise of falling articles swept aside in her wild 
rush to open the low door, so completely hidden 
by the old Japanese screen. 

“Jane! Jane!” begged her companion. “Really 
do go carefully. How can you tell what’s in 
that other place?” 


JUNIOR 


165 

‘‘I can’t till I see,” insisted Jane, her hand on 
the iron latch that held the door in place. 

“At least wait until I get a club or something,” 
begged Dozia inadequately. “I’ve heard of 
queer animals being shut up in such quarters 
and they have often made splendid ghosts of 
themselves, too.” 

But Jane had no ears for warnings, and while 
Dozia held on to the blue plaid skirt Jane yanked 
away into the great unknown ! 

“Oh, look!” she cried in that tragic way girls 
discover things. “Just look!” 

They had opened up a big storeroom forgot- 
ten and abandoned, and in it — were all sorts of 
college paraphernalia, such as is used in theatri- 
cals. The room literally groaned with the stuff, 
and from the mass one object stood out boldly 
and significantly: 

It was a suit of Japanese armor! 

Jane yelled in delight at the discovery and 
pointed it out to Dozia. 

“Don’t touch it!” whispered Dozia. “It may 
be inhabited!” 

“Bosh!” roared Jane, laying hold of a dan- 
gling armlet. 

As she did so the chains rattled! The metallic 
clangings clanged and the whole array of ghost- 


JANE ALLEN: 


1 66 


ly noises sounded out in the unholy hour of three 
o’clock broad daylight! 

“The ghost ! The ghost !” boomed J ane. “Do- 
zia, see, this thing is hung so it goes off at a 
touch. Oh, isn’t it delicious! To have found it 
and this way,” 

“I’m nervous watching that disappearing 
door,” whined Dozia. “Suppose we should get 
walled up in here, just two babes in the tower?” 

“I’m going to get this thing down and show 
it to the girls,” defied Jane. “Oh, Dozia, look 
there — a companion. One for you and one for 
me. Let’s get into them and go down stairs. 
The girls will be there and ” 

“Say, little girl!” drawled Dozia. “Do you 
expect me to get in under that scrap iron works?” 

“It’s all padded,” interrupted the excited Jane. 
“Here,” she had the armor off its big hook and 
simply made Dozia hold the tumbling parts. 
“There’s the helmet, the visor and these ” 

“The trunks,” said Dozia. “Cute little romp- 
ers, aren’t they?” 

“Called tonlets,” said the intelligent Jane, 
sighing under the weight of the outfit she was 
trying to shift to a trunk and a couple of boxes. 

“I’d hate to have to get in that for a fire,” re- 
marked Dozia. She was, however, trying on the 


JUNIOR 


167! 

scaly breastplate, and attempting to poke her 
head into the helmet. “Are you sure this stuff 
is no world’s war relic? I wouldn’t care to rub 
shoulders with some old Prussian guard.” 

“Why, girlie, aside from bagging the ghost, I 
think we have made a great discovery. Think 
of this acquisition to Wellington!” and then Jane 
proceeded to dress up. 

But things rattled and fell off almost as often 
as they were put on, and it was not an easy mat- 
ter to get inside of anything pertaining to this 
dilapidated costume. 

When an old sword dropped from its hook on 
a rafter, Jane danced in glee and declared “a 
ghost did it,” although Dozia insisted she had 
cut a piece of cord on that very hook. Finally 
Jane was “canned,” as Dozia described the state 
of being inside of tin things, and an attempt was 
made to move. 

“If we should fall ” suggested Jane. 

But they didn’t 


CHAPTER XVII 


‘'behold the ghost of LENOX HALLI” 

OZI A insisted on carrying the “tin romp- 



ers” down stairs in her hands and don- 


ning them in a convenient place to avoid 
possible disaster. 

“Yours are shorter and jauntier than mine, 
Jane,” she argued. “Besides, you have a better 
figure for tonlets. Come along. I’ll stop at the 
landing and buckle into the things. Give me a 
couple of chains. Don’t they chime beautifully?” 

“Wait a minute,” Jane ordered. “I just dis- 
covered the usual slip of paper.” She was ex- 
tracting it from an armlet. “It’s quite new and 
very modern, in fact regular typewriting 
kind ” 

“Oh, tuck it away and come along,” Dozia 
moaned. “I hear the horde howling and the 
sooner I get this stuff off the better I’ll feel. 
Pickles! but it’s heavy.” 

J ane folded the slip of paper and made if se- 
cure some place, then they proceeded to forge 


l68 


JANE ALLEN: JUNIOR 


169 


their way into the recreation room on the second 
floor, whither the students had been hastily sum- 
moned by the matron. 

“Now I know how the baby tanks felt in the 
big war,” panted J ane, who was valiantly lead- 
ing the way. “I mean those big human machines 
that rolled over the earth and ploughed things 
down as they went.” 

“Say, Janie, just wait a minute,” begged Do- 
zia at the first landing. “This looks a little like 
a joke but who is the joker? Who got up in that 
place and rattled these nightly? Also, who let 
out that wild scream we heard on that first 
night?” She was talking quickly and in a sub- 
dued voice. “We may be breaking the spell by 
raiding the secret chamber, but suppose the old 
spook breaks out in a new spot?” 

“IVe thought of all that,” confessed Jane, 
her smile threatening to unhinge the visor. “But 
we must give the youngsters their show first. 
The details will be lost in their joy of rescue.” 

“They come! They come!” called out Miss 
Gifford in an uncertain treble. She had been 
waiting to give this signal. 

“Land, I’m losing the panties,” groaned Do- 
zia, trying to hold up the tonlets with one hand 
while she made wild grabs all over the outfit with 


JANE ALLEN: 


170 

the other. Dozia’s artistic effect was surely in 
jeopardy. Majestically the two big, black wal- 
nut doors swung back, and the crusaders passed 
between them. 

“Behold the ghosts of Lenox Hall!” cried out 
Jane tragically. 

“Behold, behold!” echoed Dozia, raising her 
arm in its chained gusset and attempting to 
salute at the peak of her helmet. 

Shouts from the girls spoiled further efforts at 
the theatrical, and presently it was no longer a 
question of holding the old armor in place, but 
rather that of getting out of it safely, for what 
those freshmen didn’t say and do to those ghosts ! 

“Nothing but strung up dishrags,” sneered 
Maud Leslie. ‘‘They must have looted every 
hardware store in town for these. Look !” 

She sacrilegiously yanked from their wire 
strings the metal dishcloths such as are used for 
scouring purposes, and truth to tell there was 
indeed a big collection in the string of armor. 

“Let’s try the breastplate,” begged Nellie 
Saunders. “I’ve always longed to be a Joan of 
Arc.” And she got her pretty hair inside the 
head cage with the mouth trap under her chin, 
then she corseted on the breastplate. 

“And that's the ghost?” scoffed Margie Win- 


7UNI0R 


121 

ters, sitting far off in the comer safe from “spir- 
itual” infection. 

“Disappointed?” asked Jane. 

“Of course I am,” growled Margie. “I ex- 
pected a holiday at least to fumigate, and here 
we have nothing but a lot of perfectly sanitary 
junk.” 

“And I thought we would find a beautiful 
maniac walled up there,” sighed Velma Sigsbee. 
“It’s a perfect shame to have the thing end so 
unromantically.” 

“Hard to suit you youngsters,” commented 
Jane. She had fully divested herself of the trap- 
pings, and now stood aside while the freshmen 
surveyed the wreck. Someone suggested get- 
ting up surprise thea xcals and bringing before 
the whole college th ‘ghosts of Lenox.” This 
was a fuse to the bomb of excitement, and pres- 
ently the roll was called, secrecy pledged, and 
a committee of arrangements appointed. 
Prompt freshmen! 

“Give Sa y Howland a part,” called out Ruth 
Lawrence. “She’s just suited for something 
angelic.’ 

“We’ll transpose Othello and sprinkle it with 
cherubs,” said Nellie Saunders, who had been 
made chairman of the cast. “But the one thing 


172 


JANE ALLEN: 


to remember, girls, is secrecy,’’ she announced 
loftily. “No one outside of Lenox must know 
what the ghosts are, or anything about the show.” 

“You’ll find tons of stuff up there to fit out 
the entire performance,” Jane informed the ex- 
cited students. “It seems to me the things have 
been stored there for ages, and perhaps were the 
remains of some very grand affair in the early 
history of Wellington. Now, girls, are you fully 
satisfied the ghost is annihilated?” 

“Perfectly,” spoke up Nellie. “And we just 
don’t know how to thank you juniors. Cheers, 
girls, for our rescuers.” 

They cheered with the freshmen’s dirge. 

“One, two, button my shoe; three, four, knock 
at the door” (they knocked at everything). 

“Five, six, pick up sticks” (wild grabs). 

“Sticks, sticks, freshies can’s mix.” 

“Rawr! rawr! freshies all sore” (moans and 
groans). 

“Gore, sore, r-o-a-r” (and they roared) ! 

“Thanks,” responded Jane when the roar died 
down, “and we’re glad to be initiated in your 
sorority. Have a lovely time and be sure to let 
us know if you need help with the spook revue.” 


JUNIOR 


173 


Dozia chimed in feebly and slipped out after 
Jane. 

“They were actually disappointed,” she re- 
marked. “I believe they hoped for real gore.” 

“To tell the truth,” admitted Jane, “it did seem 
a bit commonplace after all the symptoms. But 
I almost forgot the little note. Did you ever yet 
meet a case in which the written word played no 
part? Where did I put that piece of paper?” 

“In your shoe?” suggested Dozia as Jane ex- 
hausted all other possibilities. 

“No, here it is in my sleeve. Sit down and 
we’ll decipher it.” They dropped to the near- 
est bench and smoothed out the paper. 

“It’s part of a letter,” said Dozia, “and writ- 
ten by a boy! Oh, joy, now we will have some 
fim — a love letter!” and she pored over the torn 
page. 

“Neither the beginning nor the end/’ said 
Jane, “but the climax.” She read: “ ‘You are 
a brick if not a wizard, and oh, boy! how that 
two hundred dollar check did look to me!’ ” 

“Two hundi-ed!” Dozia repeated. “No girl 
around these diggings ever handled that tidy lit- 
tle sum. Bead on, Jane, it may be a will or 
something, and we may come in for a share — ^re- 
ward, you know.” 


174 


JANE ALLEN: 


‘‘Here’s our clue,” announced Jane. “The 
name Shirley! Read that.” She did so herself. 
“ ‘Shirley, however did you do it, I know you 
neither stole nor borrowed, so it is all right and’ 
— ^wait,” interposed Jane, “that’s torn.” She lay 
the paper on her knees and fitted in the damaged 
parts. “Here it is. ‘I’m back in college and in 
the big dorm, after the scare, and it’s wonderful 
to have a little sis like you.’ ” 

“Sis!” groaned Dozia. “The lover’s only a 
big brother!” She slumped in her seat de- 
jectedly. 

“Shirley’s brother,” reasoned Jane, “and we 
have been blaming that girl! She helped her 
brother to get back to college!” The voice 
reeked with dismay and increduhty. 

“Can you imagine college running in her 
family?” questioned Dozia the incredulous. 

“I suppose we should hardly have read the 
letter ” 

“Why not? Should we have risked our 
precious lives up in that attic and then turned 
down this important clue? Indeed I’m all for 
asking Shirley to introduce me,” and Dozia 
strutted off to show her height if not to display 
the “runs” in her hose and the “threadbares” in 
her sweater elbows. 


JUNIOR 


175 


H ‘‘But it does sort of take one down,” mused 
K Jane, following her companion toward Warbur- 
||ton Hall, “I hate to feel I have so misjudged 
I Shirley.” 

m “Pure personal pride on your part, Jane. I 
have proof positive of the girl’s perfidy. Every 
single day I must paste anew the paper decora- 
I tion that hides her work. I mean that crack in 
> my mirror. More than once it has done dreadful 
things to my poor face. If I move just one inch 
to the left the crack gashes my right cheek. You 
know how a glass reflects. But this brother. 
May I see the paper, Jane? His name might be 
between the lines.” 

“Oh, it’s Ted,” said Jane innocently. “See 
the signature here, but no address, of course. 
And from that immature hand. Doze, I am sure 
Ted is a junior.” 

“But, Jane!” almost gasped Dozia. “What 
can you do with that letter? It would be posi- 
tively dangerous to let Shirley know you found 
it. It would mean, logically, that she rang the 
ghost chains, and that you knew she had helped 
her brother financially.” All the nonsense had 
now died out of Dozia’s voice, and she compelled 
Jane to stand while she proclaimed this ulti- 
matum. 


176 


JANE ALLEN: 


“But how could she get up there, Dozia, when 
we know positively she was not on the campus 
the night of the big alarm?’" 

“And httle Sarah is innocent, I am sure,” 
went on Dozia, “for she handled that trash with 
an interest too keen for previous acquaintance 
with the stuff. Each piece gave her a little 
spasm of surprise. I watched just how it 
affected her.’" 

“Queer, I noticed that also,” said Jane. “Yes, 
I’m sure she never saw the armor before. But 
Shirley is never around in any excitement. I 
am afraid she spends a lot of time in Dol Vin’s.” 

“But how could she ever get two hundred dol- 
lars for brother Ted?” 

“I — ^wonder, Dozia, could she be in partner- 
ship with Dol?” 

“She might, but wouldn’t that mean an out- 
lay?” 

“Of course. There’ll be little profit there — 
and two hundred!” The amount was appalling 
to Jane’s practical mind. 

Voices broke in on the soliloquy. 

“Here come the girls from their ride, and 
what a shame you didn’t go, Jane. Laying a 
ghost is all right, but if I rode a horse as you do, 
I’d assign the ghosts to others. "Lo, girls! 


JUNIOR 


177 


Break your necks or anything?” chirped Dozia. 

Judith hurried to gain Jane’s arm and 
squeezed it affectionately as she fell in step. 

“Such a glorious ride, Jane!” enthused Judith, 
“and we all missed you so much. Firefly was 
good, but he knew you were not on his back.” 
Judith looked “nobby” in her riding togs. 

“And whom do you think we saw out with a 
stable horse and instructor?” asked Janet Clarke. 
“The Rebel Shirley Duncan! And you know, 
Jane, what a price Clayton asks for his horses.” 

Jane was amazed. A riding instructor, horse 
and hired outfit for Shirley Duncan! 

What was the secret spring of her prodigious 
income? 


CHAPTER XVIII 


FATEFUL FROLIC 

E xcitement subsided with a thud at 
the discovery of the cast-iron ghost, and 
for some days a round of studies and 
basketball completely absorbed the girls of Wel- 
lington. Whatever the restless freshmen had in 
hand was not evident to the other classes, and 
only Jane, Judith and Dozia shared the interest, 
and possible anxiety, following the clues and 
suspicions in the undertow. 

“It’s a dreadful thing to be proud,” confessed 
Jane to these companions after a rather too vig- 
orous hour in the gym on Saturday afternoon. 
“Somehow, when I think of my own darling 
daddy’s scholarship being dragged in the mud 
this way, I feel — dangerous.” 

“Don’t blame you,” acquiesced Judith. “The 
very impudence of a girl like Shirley breaking 
into college that way, then boasting she doesn’t 
care a whang what happens I What do you sup- 
pose mil happen at mid-year?” 

178 


JANE ALLEN: JUNIOR 


^179 


“A neat little note, ‘unable to keep up with her 
class,’ I suppose,” said Jane. “And while I 
don’t wish that girl any more harm than she’s 
bent on, I am bound to confess I would sigh in 
relief at her departure.” 

“But that lovely brother Ted,” mourned 
Dozia. Judith had been made fully acquainted 
with the fragmentary letter recovered in the 
ghost raid. 

“That would be hard,” agreed Judith. 

“And I’m sure there’s a sweet little mother — 
but we saw the mother!” Jane broke off sud- 
denly. “How incongruous that those two coun- 
try folks should have a son at college like our 
Ted!” 

“Our Ted,” echoed Judith, allowing her head 
to droop on Jane’s shoulder impressively. 

“Awful!” moaned Judith. 

“Turrible,” groaned Dozia. 

They were walking leisurely up from the gym, 
and the clouds of young Winter wrapt the gay 
sunset in fleecy blankets, while capering elves 
picked up every frightened little leaf and tossed 
it cruelly from its hiding place. 

“It seems to me,” said Jane, influenced by the 
spirit of her surroundings, “that this year has 
been rather unsatisfactory. Not that I want to 


i8o 


JANE ALLEN: 


shine by the reflected glory of dad’s winner, but 
it would be consistent to have the scholarship 
always won by good students.” 

“Rather a jolt,” agreed Judith, “to have the 
romp come in on merit when she can’t prove it. 
It really looks like a trick somewhere, Jane.” 

“But the exams are very severe and I’ve seen 
the report. Nothing ‘foohey’ about that. Yes, I 
have known girls to sail along beautifully in 
school and flunk everjrthing in college. It really 
can be done.” 

“But two hundred dollars can’t be done that 
way,” Dozia interposed, “and no one seems to be 
missing her change purse.” 

“Beyond me,” Jane owned up, “and I’ve al- 
most ceased to wonder about the dumb-waiter 
tenant. Wish you would agree to my ascent in 
that car, Judith.” 

“Yes, you want a party to your folly. You 
don’t feel free to break your pretty neck without 
fastening the crime on poor Judy Stearns. No, 
Jane, dear, you don’t ride in that Ferris wheel 
while I’m your side partner. You know scor- 
pions are deadly and love dark corners. Ugh! 
How could you think of going up in that beastly 
cage 1” 

“Don’t get excited, dear, I have promised not 


JUNIOR 


i8i 


to try it,” acceded Jane. ‘‘Although I have felt 
there might be some clue in the old derrick. 
Don’t go indoors yet, the air is ” 

She stopped to watch two girls on horseback 
gallop along the bridle path. 

“Shirley Duncan and some stranger,” ex- 
claimed J udith. “And how they are going — oh, 
mercy!” 

“Oh, oh!” screamed all three, for at that mo- 
ment both riders were vainly trying to check 
their horses in a sudden dash down one of the 
steepest grades, straight over a hill almost per- 
pendicular in its slope. 

“The horses have left the path,” breathed 
Jane, watching with fascinated gaze the two 
mounts galloping down at a speed surely dis- 
astrous. One, the taller girl, seemed to have 
some control, but poor Shirley! 

“Heavens!” screamed Judith, “she’s gone!” 

The horse had stumbled and its rider was roll- 
ing headlong down the hill, while the frightened 
animal pawed the earth in a wild attempt to re- 
gain its feet. The girls, terrified, started 
swiftly for the spot, but even as they ran the 
unfortunate rider went over a sharper turn and 
struck. Then — she lay in an inert heap against 


i 82 


JANE ALLEN: 


a jagged rock! In a moment they were at her 
side. 

“Her head!” exclaimed Jane, frightened at 
the deathly face she now stared down at. 

“Can we carry her? This is so far from a 
building,” gasped Judith, “Oh, Jane, see the 
blood!” 

“I can easily carry her,” answered Dozia 
quickly. “Let me pick her up, and take her on 
my shoulder.” 

“Wait,” Jane cautioned. “It might be dan- 
gerous. We must stretch her out flat so that her 
head is down. There, she may soon regain con- 
sciousness. I wonder if one of us should run up 
to Madison?” 

“I’ll go,” volunteered Judith, evidently glad 
to escape from the horror of the scene. “See, the 
other rider is still galloping! She can’t stop her 
horse. Oh, how terrible if the runaway gets out 
among the autos.” 

“Hurry, Judith,” Jane begged. “Have them 
bring a stretcher. I am sure we shouldn’t hft 
her head; her face is bloodless.” 

“She appears to be recovering,” Dozia whis- 
pered. “Poor Shirley! How dreadful that this 
should happen!” 

“If only she lives,” moaned Jane, contrition in 



IN A MOMENT THEY WERE AT HER SIDE. 
“Jane Allen: Junior.” 


Page 182 



JUNIOR 


183 

her voice. Somehow it was unbearable that this 
country girl had been so severely censored by 
Jane and her companions. As she lay there, all 
the horrors of her unhappy school days seemed 
to fly up and strike Jane in a charge of bitter- 
ness. 

“I’m sure she is only stunned,” Dozia said con- 
solingly. “See, Jane, there is a tiny streak of 
color coming. She will soon react.” 

Yes, the pallor was melting into a film more 
lifelike, but the heavy eyelids looked so deathly! 
How awful to gaze upon that mockery of death 
— complete unconsciousness ! 

“Her horse is walking off quietly, Jane,” 
again Dozia spoke. “I believe the animal is wise 
enough to know he should not go without his 
rider.” 

Even the riderless horse, with his solemn clip- 
clapping, echoed a terrifying note to the scene. 
It was all so appalling. 

“Shirley! Shirley!” whispered Jane, close to 
the ear of the stricken girl. 

Then “Shirley?” repeated the blue lips in a 
questioning answer. “Where? Oh, my head!” 
and a spasm of pain struck across the white face. 

“You are all right, Shirley, dear,” Jane com- 
forted, relief in her voice. “You just fell from 


i84 


JANE ALLEN: 


your horse. Lie still until we can take you to 
the infirmary. Do you feel a little better?” 
How wonderful to hear the stricken girl speak 
again! 

“The awful noise in my ears!” she gasped. 
“Like a torrent rushing ” 

“That’s only the returning circulation,” said 
Dozia in the same quiet monotone Jane had used. 

What a relief! To know her mind was clear! 
And the blood streak on her neck seemed now 
only from surface scratches — ^the briars had torn 
her flesh cruelly as she dashed down that hill. 

Over the same hill, but not by the same route, 
could now be seen the stretcher bearers. With 
four seniors were also Miss Rutledge, the dean, 
and Miss Fairlie, the matron of Madison. They 
were hurrying and silent, only the light tread of 
crackling leaves on the bridle path accompany- 
ing the grave little procession. 

Jane and Dozia were chafing Shirley’s hands. 
At the approach of the litter they stood waiting 
to lift with gentle hands the prostrate girl. It 
seemed so strangely pathetic: the big country 
girl in that gay riding habit, the glaring red coat 
such a contrast now to the helpless wearer. Her 
little velvet jockey cap still held on with its chin 


JUNIOR 


111 

strap, and the new chamois gloves hiding her un- 
tamed hands were so strikingly new! 

Few words were spoken as the rescuers met. 
Miss Rutledge gave quiet orders and these were 
carried out with intelligent care. Finally Shir- 
ley was on the canvas stretcher, and Jane was 
holding a restorative close to her nostrils. 

“There, dear. It’s all done and you won’t 
move another bit now to hurt your head. See 
how steadily the girls carry you?” 

Dozia held one hand opposite Jane’s side and 
the older students moved over the uncertain hill, 
tense and powerful against a possible jolt or 
jarring movement of the patient. Once down 
on the path the task was less difficult, and as the 
corps turned back to take the path from the gate- 
way into the grounds again, Shirley’s horse, 
standing by the post, whinnied after them. No 
one spoke, but Shirley put a gloved hand over 
her strained eyes, and it was plain she feared 
even the sound of the faithful animal’s call to 
her. 

At the infirmary Dr. Pawley was waiting, and 
quickly as they reached the big white room the 
students were dismissed, while he and his nurse 
took charge. 

“Judy,” Jane gulped, but before they could 


JANE ALLEN: 


^186 

reach a secluded spot her tense nerves gave way. 

“Judy! Judy!” she cried. “Why didn’t we try 
to save her from those reckless strangers? Why 
didn’t we beg her to give up the company of 
Dolorez Vincez?” 

“But we did, Janie. We tried every possible 
way,” consoled Judith. “This accident could 
happen to anyone — ^to a skilled rider as well as to 
a beginner. Besides — she will be all right. See 
how quickly she became fully conscious!” 

“But to think ” Jane’s words were lost in 

choking sobs, and for the first time Judith saw 
what genuine grief could do to sunny little Jane 
Allen. 

Wisely her companion allowed the storm to 
beat itself out. That sort of hysteria is always 
best spent unchecked, and Judith Stearns 
merely stroked the red gold head that had buried 
itself in her lap, while the shoulders pulsed and 
throbbed under Jane’s continuous sobbing. At 
last she raised her head and smiled piteously. 

“I feel better,” she said. “It’s awful to have 
that sort of thing clutch at one’s throat. Now 
my weakness has passed, let us see if there is 
an5rthing wanted. Hereafter I shall not tmst 
dad’s scholarship girl to strangers’ handling.” 
And she meant every word she said. 


JUNIOR 


187 


Quickly the news of the accident spread, and 
just as quickly came the keen suspense and wave 
of suppressed excitement. Rumors were whis- 
pered: first that the victim was in danger of 
death, next that her injuries were not serious, 
until even the most sensational among the many 
pupils realized the importance of withholding 
their opinions. 

Hushed voices around that part of college 
where the infirmary was situated bespoke an ac- 
tive sympathy, and the weight of oppression that 
comes with dread had suddenly changed the 
whole atmosphere into a cloud of gloom. 

Dear, thoughtless, headstrong Shirley I 


CHAPTER XIX 


THE MIEACLE 


HE days of watching and anxiety that 



followed the accident left no time for 


the lesser interests among Shirley’s 
group at Wellington. For that awful uncertain 
period there was grave danger of brain concus- 
sion, and in the fear of that it must be said every 
girl in Lenox, besides many outside the fresh- 
men’s quarters, showed their loyalty to the un- 
tamed country girl. No messages could be sent, 
no flowers even allowed to attest to their kind- 
ness, as in the critical time absolute solitude was 
imperative. Then, like a flash of that robust 
country vitality, the patient rallied and all 
danger was pronounced past. 

One particular, however, caused Jane keen 
annoyance. All messages to Shirley’s folks had 
been passed out through Dolorez Vincez, who 
claimed to be a personal friend of the family. 
Not even a mother would have been allowed to 
see the patient, and as Shirley begged that this 


188 


JANE ALLEN: JUNIOR 


189 


plan of Dolorez’ agency be carried out, no objec- 
tion was made to it by the very much alarmed 
dean. Miss Rutledge. 

Another puzzling detail was the fact that 
Sarah Howland begged Jane not to interfere 
with these arrangements, as any such interfer- 
ence would undoubtedly shock the stricken girl, 
she argued. Sally and Jane had just left Lenox 
and were discussing these details. 

“And I’m so glad now,” breathed Sally in her 
entreaty to Jane, “that you listened to me and 
did not report that matter to Miss Rutledge.” 

“So am I,” said Jane in bewilderment. “I am 
glad of anything I may have done to make her 
path smoother here. I can’t see why Dolorez 
should step in at this critical moment, though, 
but I do know she took Shirley’s folks around 
when they were here, and as you say, Sally, to 
suddenly change the whole line of communica- 
tion with her family might not only shock Shir- 
ley, but also terrify her folks. What a relief 
that she is now out of danger!” 

“I felt like running away at first,” confessed 
Sally, “it was so terrifying. But I realized I 
might be the very one most wanted here — if any- 
thing serious should happen.” 

Jane cast a quick inquiring glance at the 


190 


J^NE ALLEN: 


younger girl following that statement, but was 
not rewarded by a further gleam of confidence. 

‘‘I’m afraid I have neglected her,” said Jane, 
“and I mean to make amends. The juniors 
usually help backward freshmen, but Shirley 
seemed to resent my attempts even at friend- 
ship.” 

“Miss Allen,” said Sarah in a compelling 
voice, “you may not know it but — ^that girl is 
gifted at mathematics. She can solve the most 
difficult problems and is always ahead at geom- 
etry and trig. Other studies seem to confuse her, 
and she just laughs at the languages, but she’s a 
perfect gem at math.” 

“Is that so? I’m so glad!” exclaimed Jane, 
“for if she is capable at math she ought to pull 
through her other work. How strange I never 
heard anyone mention her talent?” 

Sally shook her head and smiled. “She is so 
odd and defiant, but under it all I believe the girl 
is just a big-hearted, untamed creature. That 
is why. Miss Allen, I have kept as near to her as 
she would allow me to come. She is too honest 
even to affect changes.” 

“Capable at math?” Jane repeated, trying to 
believe it. “I am so glad, Sally. I can’t tell you 


fUNIOR 


12i 

what it means Jo me that this student is not 
wholly — dull,’’ 

“I can guess,” replied Sally simply, and Jane 
wondered then if she knew about the scholar- 
ship. 

‘‘Why did the girls abandon their plans for 
the ghost show?” asked Jane suddenly. “I 
thought they were all so keen about it.” 

“Perhaps I am to blame,” faltered Sally 
timidly. “But you see. Miss Allen — ^well, there 
was a complication there — and ” she stum- 

bled piteously. Jane tried to rescue her. 

“But it would only have been a lark, and the 
freshmen have had no Barnstorm this season!” 

“I know,” said Sally helplessly, “but Shirley 
was so sick and — ^we have given the idea up.” 

Jane had to be content with that, but the 
veiled explanation only whetted her curiosity. 

Few accidents were recorded in Wellington’s 
history, and the mishap of Shirley ran its course 
in intense interest. Then presently the patient 
was again defending herself just as before, 
scorning even the humblest sympathy offered. 

“Served me right,” she insisted, talking to 
Sally. “I know how to ride and can handle any 
old farm horse that ever pulled a plough, but I 
want my hands free and my horse must be un- 


192 


JANE ALLEN: 


checked. Stylish togs, gloves, saddles and trap- 
pings get in my way, and that hill!” 

So the accident had served as a lesson, and the 
fallen pride was not wasted in its effect upon 
the ambitious equestrian. 

Thanksgiving had passed with few of the girls 
leaving college, as special permission was re- 
quired for that privilege, and now the holiday 
season was imminent. Even basket ball had lost 
some of its power to enthuse, and the fact that 
Shirley was not considered well enough to go 
into the rough game, and also that Sally How- 
land was too small and light to be eligible, served 
to lessen the interest of Jane and Judith in the 
personnel of the teams, for as juniors in a second 
extension year they felt a little too grown up to 
go themselves generally into the big games. 

Jane was chosen and acted as referee, and 
Judith was forced to play center in the Breslin 
game, but even winning over the neighboring 
academy somehow had lost its thrill. Golf was 
the popular game now with Jane, Judith, Dozia 
and Janet Clarke; Ted Guthrie, too, toddled 
around the links, and golf permitted such oppor- 
tunities for confidences and was so independent 
of stated hours and limits of endurance that time 
was given on the course to talk many things over. 


JUNIOR 


193 


The girls had covered the frosted field and 
were returning before the first period of study, 
and that magic beautifier, the air of early morn- 
ing, left little undone in his art of tone and tonic 
for Jane and Judith, when they dropped their 
bags and hurried to the day’s tasks in mental 
exploits. 

“This very afternoon I am going to talk with 
Shirley,” Jane decided. “And wouldn’t it be 
wonderful, Judy, if she turned out worth while 
after all?” 

“No, it wouldn’t,” glowered Judith. “Any girl 
who can be as sick as she was and not have her 
brother Ted come to see her — well, my interest 
lags at that point and I don’t intend to ’rouse it.” 

“I still have that letter,” Jane reflected. 
“Never seem to get a chance to turn it in. And I 
didn’t want to destroy it.” 

“Give it to me, Janie, do,” teased Judith. 
“Next to knowing the darling Ted, having his 
letter in installments might serve. Tonight we’ll 
read it over again. It seems so long since we 
found it with the ghost.” 

“Doesn’t it? And even the play was given up 
when Shirley was stricken.” 

“But they used the armor the other night in 
Jheir pageant,” said Judith, “and everyone 


194 


JANE ALLEN: 


thought it wonderful. What a shame they ex- 
punged the ghost story.” 

“Freshmen are so unreliable,” sagely com- 
mented Jane. “But I’m afraid outside influence 
spoiled the plot for the spook tragedy. I hope 
my things come today for the prom. I feel 
rather in need of a first class time under the 
beneficent influence of a real orchestra and pru- 
dently shaded lights.” 

“Me, too,” agreed Judith promptly if inele- 
gantly. 

So the gay season advanced apace, and it was 
soon one round of trying on gowns and fussing 
with sample hair dressing in all the “dorms” of 
Wellington. For the one big function known 
simply as The Dance all students were eligible, 
and it was just in advance of this that Shirley 
“broke loose.” 

She openly and unqualifiedly “cut loose” from 
Dol Vin’s “interference,” as she called it. 

“I’m through with her,” she told her com- 
panions; but it was to Sally she confided the de- 
tails. 

The girls had been planning their dance cos- 
tumes and Sally was insisting she did not care 
to go to the dance, when Shirley took another 
spasm of revolt. She would never again go into 


(JUNIOR 


m 


that hateful place, she declared, and more than 
that, she threatened exposure to the beauty shop 
methods if its proprietor did not soon return 
some of the “loans” long over due to her 
[{ Shirley) , 

“Kitten,” she exploded without warning, “IVe 
had my lesson. Do you know that Dol Vin is 
actually sending bills to my innocent dad for her 
entertainment of the country folks? Imagine 
all she’s begged and borrowed from me to meet 
‘emergencies’ in her business, and then to ask 
my dad to pay her dinner bills! Of course she 
thinks I’m helpless, and that she has me in her 
power, but I am not such a ‘greenie’ now. And 
we will both be free soon!” 

The deep-set eyes took on a look more confi- 
dent than defiant, and even “Kitten” did not fail 
to observe a marked improvement in the speak- 
er’s manner and appearance. 

Shirley was powerful and forceful, with that 
unruly aggressiveness conspicuous in young chil- 
dren, when the weakness is classified as “having 
their own way” before twelve years, and as “be- 
ing capable” after that — ^the latter faculty true 
fruit of the former germ. So it was with this 
country girlj her very crimes were molding into 


196 


JANE ALLEN: 


virtues, and that again proves a world old phi- 
losophy. 

“Your hair is very becoming that way,” ven- 
tured the blonde Sally, whose own hair was al- 
ways a most exacting halo — Sally had to live up 
to it. “And you don’t mind being called Bob- 
bie?” 

“I like it,” answered Shirley. “I suppose you 
know what a time I had to get the wig back to 
hair after the treatment. I am positive that east 
side French woman was trying an experiment on 
my poor head. But among other things the acci- 
dent did for me, it gave my hair a chance to 
shoot.” She ran her long fingers through the 
rather stubby growth that had taken on a decided 
unruliness in splendid imitation of curl. “You 
see it was rubbed every day, and that charitable 
nurse rubbed curl right in it. I just love it and 
wouldn’t interfere with it for anything. Curling 
hair artificially, I know, simply makes it cranky.” 

“Yes, spoils its temper and breaks its charac- 
ter. J ust like twisting a tender vine and forcing 
it to turn away from its chosen paths. How are 
you getting on with your cramming? Can I 
helj) you?” asked Sally, diverging suddenly. 

“Hopeless,” replied the other. “I don’t be- 
lieve I’ll wait to face the music.” 


JUNIOR 


197 


“Oh, you must. Miss Allen is so inter- 
ested ” 

“That’s the hard part of it now. I can’t face 
Miss Allen. She’s such a good sport.” The 
bobbed brown head was suddenly dropped into 
her cupped hands reflectively. “You see, at first. 
Kitten, I was just a rebel; satisfied to get in here 
and to have the name of it. Then, these girls 
whom I so despised were so fine to me,” again 
the look of dejection, “and, girlie, when I lay on 
my back at the foot of that hill and Jane Allen 
whispered ‘Shirley’ into my buzzing ears — it did 
something to me.” Her companion allowed the 
pause to act without venturing to interrupt it. 
It was the working of the miracle ! 

“Yes, and she meant it, too,” went on Shirley 
reflectively. “No silly stuff just because she 
feared I was done for. She and big, brown- 
freckled Dozia just seemed to drag me back to 
earth, while the other!” her eyes blazed. “Do 
you know why I have never spoken of my com- 
panion on that hateful ride?” 

“No — I’ve wondered?” 

“I’ve been ashamed to,” declared Shirley, “and 
thankful the juniors who helped me did not tor- 
ture me with questions. Well — she was that 
foreign element with a name like a crocheted 


198 


JANE ALLEN: JUNIOR 


alphabet and a face like a week old Easter egg — 
running its colors, you know. Dol has her down 
from New York to practice for the stage,” this 
thought revived Shirley’s spirits and she gave a 
gay howl. “I can see why she needs the woods 
to practice the yells she’s cultivating,” a foot 
was kicked out at the thought. “But I’m through 
with them. Kitten, but please don’t think I’ve 
reformed,” she gasped. “I despise turncoats 
and — ^traitors.” 

Shirley wore an angora tarn, leaf green sweat- 
er and big plaid golf skirt just then. No one in 
Wellington could have criticised her outfit. Even 
her attire seemed benefited by the miracle. 

“Bye-by, little sister,” she addressed Sally. 
“This experience has done something else for 
me other than opening my stupid eyes — ^it has 
given me a real chum.” 

And she got away before Sally could answer. 


CHAPTER XX 


TOUCHSTONE 

H ave you noticed, Judy,” asked Jane, 
‘‘what a miraculous improvement is 
manifest in our two pet f reshies? To 
wit: Sally and Shirley.” 

“Yes,” snapped Judith, “and IVe noticed 
something else. You are apt to fall in love with 
the rebel.” 

J ane laughed. She was looking so lovely after 
a wild time in the pool, and a girl who can look 
well after a swim is surely very pretty. But 
Jane’s hair loved the water, and a flash of sun- 
shine after it just whipped the little ringlets 
into flossy tangles. Then her eyes always danced 
from excitement, and her agile form just vi- 
brated energy. Don’t blame Jane for this de- 
scription — ^it is given through Judy’s eyes, whose 
hair went stringy, whose eyes went blinky, and 
who actually turned “goose flesh” from a pool 
swim in December. 

“No,” said Jane, “I couldn’t really love a girl 
199 


200 


JANE ALLEN: 


who has been so temperamental, but I could tol- 
erate her, and that’s a concession.” 

“If I don’t rub down quickly I’m afraid these 
goose fleshings will freeze into pebbles. I feel 
like a big stone as it is,” said Judith, shivering, 
chattering and turning bluer. “Wait for me in 
the run; I want to talk to you.” 

The “run” was that part of the gym kept clear 
for free exercise and was used especially by such 
students as demanded a substitute for the “beach 
run in the sand” after swimming. Also, it gave 
space for track work, although the open season 
for cross country runs was rarely closed at Wel- 
lington. 

Jane was dressed and out before Judith ap- 
peared. It was Saturday again, a free day; 
free from study but simply crowded with other 
contingencies. Students were knotted together, 
ready for basketball, golf, handball and all other 
forms of exercise, not to omit the dress rehears- 
al at dancing already well under way in a corner 
clear of apparatus and ropes. Here girls were 
dreamily dancing who knew how to dance well, 
while others were showing steps to companions 
and comparing notes on new dances, as applied 
from various sections of the country. What Bos- 
ton had last year, Chicago was disclaiming as too 


JUNIOR 


201 


old; and again there was Maud Leslie from Jer- 
sey actually teaching Nellie Saunders from Buf- 
falo the Drop Step. 

Inez Wilson was endangering her life and limb 
“toeing” and each time she pirouetted on those 
toes, without the usual padding of the oriental 
shaped supports, a perfect flock of other dancers 
slid from danger of her avalanche. 

“You’ll skid, Ina!” yelled Nellie Brocton. 
“Besides, this dance isn’t going to be for solo- 
ists,” and Nettie swung away with Janet, croon- 
ing and humming to the imaginary orchestra. 

Judith came out from the lockers, a challenge 
now to the effects of her long swim. True, her 
hair was wispy, and every snap on her blouse 
had not joined its partner, but taking her all in 
all Judith Stearns “looked dandy” and said she 
felt just like that. 

“I’m too lazy to run,” she told Jane, “besides, 
my shoe laces would trip me. I’m plenty warm 
and proof positive against getting cold. Sit 
down while I tie my shoes.” 

“See Shirley and Sally practicing,” remarked 
Jane indifferently. 

“I don’t want to!” retorted Judith, “Jane, 
I’m alarmed and I know your sinister motive. 
You have heard Teddy is coming to the dance!” 


202 


JANE ALLEN: 


“No!” gasped Jane, unable to hide her sur- 
prise. 

“There, I knew you would take it that way. 
But be warned! Teddy is to be my partner for 
as many dances as his sister can spare,” and 
Judith tucked a wad of shoestring in at her ankles 
as if the pocket were in a commodious knitting 
bag instead of a tennis shoe. 

“I hope he’s fat and awkward and red headed 
and clumsy,” snapped Jane, tearing off the qual- 
ifications like coupons. 

“And I know he’s tall and graceful and has 
chestnut hair,” fawned Judith. “I’ve loved Ted 
from the moment I saw how he curls his cross 
letters like a riding crop. That’s always a sign 
of originality and genius.” There was a hint of 
strut in Judith’s ordinarily graceful motion, and 
tiny drops of pool water flicked her eyelashes 
unnoticed. When Judith Stearns professed to 
“love a boy” she did so heroically, though he be 
myth or just an ordinary “full back.” 

Jane made her way over to the dancers’ cor- 
ner. Shirley was howling over her own failure 
at the Drop Step. She choked back her uproar- 
iousness as Jane came along. 

“Can’t do it,” she confessed. “Guess I shall 
have to stick to ‘One Steps.’ ” 


JUNIOR 


203 


“Every fault is an art at the big dance/" said 
Jane. “It’s the one chance we have to stand by 
our home towns ; we all seem to dance so differ- 
ently. But that’s very good, Shirley. I wouldn’t 
give it up if you really want to get it. There’s 
just a queer little knack this way.” She threw 
her arm around the novice and led her off. Ju- 
dith had condescended to follow Jane up and 
was now talking to Sally. 

For the length of the “arena” Jane and Shir- 
ley struggled along, chatting and smiling with- 
out restraint or self-consciousness. Girls “made 
eyes” in criticism, but none ventured to shape 
their criticism into words, for the rebel Shirley 
was doing pretty well in everything these days, 
and why should not a junior take her up if she 
wished to? 

At the turn Shirley drew Jane aside from the 
dancers and said in an undertone: 

“Miss Allen, I do wish you could persuade 
little Kitten — I mean Sally, to come to the dance. 
First, I was determined not to go and she per- 
suaded me. Then I found she herself had no 
idea of attending. Of course it’s always a ques- 
tion of clothes!” 

“Surely we must insist on her coming,” said 
Jane decisively. “But it is awkward to get 


204 


JANE ALLEN: 


around clothes. You know her so well, can you 
suggest a way?” Jane dared not hint that she 
would ask nothing better than providing the 
dance dress for little Sally herself. 

“She is so proud, and then lately she has had 
reverses,” said Shirley gently. “But if she 
doesn’t go I simply won’t. Nothing could in- 
duce me to,” and she flashed through with her 
old time defiance. 

“But this one dance is counted the real get- 
together of the whole year,” argued Jane. 
“When a girl absents herself it usually sort of 
disqualifies her for all the other affairs. Besides, 
it is really a benefit and we do so need a new dor- 
mitory.” 

“If we could smuggle a box to her and pre- 
tend Here she comes! I’ll think it over and 

come for advice if I may,” said Shirley quickly. 

Jane stepped back to the dancers’ whirling 
rim. She was almost deciding that the country 
girl was charming! But like the country girl 
herself, Jane detested “reformers” and was un- 
willing to admit that a change of heart is some- 
thing wholesome and even commendable. She 
knew naught of the miracle. 

More puzzled than ever at Shirley’s proposal 
that they “smuggle a box to Sally,” Jane be- 


JUNIOR 


205 


came anxious lest Shirley might be getting funds 
from some unusual, if not unlawful, source. The 
malicious influence of Dol Vin was ever a dis- 
turbing factor to be reckoned with, and as yet 
J ane had no way of knowing that the confiden- 
tial relation between the two freshmen and the 
beauty parlor proprietor had been broken off. 

Later that day Jane confided in Judith. 

‘‘What would I do if I had no Judy to tell 
my troubles to,” she said with a show of sin- 
cerity. “You may talk about new loves, but 
there is, and only will be, one darling Judy.” 

“Don’t kiss me,” protested Judy, although 
Jane was on the other side of the room and gave 
no hint of any such intention. “I can’t bear be- 
ing babied — makes me homesick.” Then she 
laughed and blew a substitute over to Jane. 
“Have you seen my dance frock? I know Ted 
will adore it. Even the box is pretty and has 
violets on the cover,” she sniffed. “I’ll try it on 
tonight — not the box — and make believe you’re 
Teddy.” 

“Judy, if some of the girls were to hear you 
rave that way they might take it seriously ” 

“And they would be perfectly justified in so 
doing,” mocked Judith. 

“Please hear me, I want to talk seriously and 


206 


JANE ALLEN: 


started off with such a lovely preamble,” inter- 
rupted Jane. “It’s this way, Judy. Shirley 
shows the earmarks of wealth, I mean money. 
Now, where does she get it, and after that poor 
boy’s letter?” 

“If I only knew,” pursued Judith, refusing to 
be serious. “How I’d love two hundred!” 

“Well, we have got to find out where it comes 
from,” fired back Jane, flushing with determina- 
tion. “I am not going to be fooled by a change 
in manner and an improvement in style. If 
beauty shop money is beginning to flow in here 
it must be stopped.” 

“Bravo! We haven’t had a real lively little 
scrap since the ghost fell, and I’d love it.” 

“You may joke, Judith, but ” 

“Calling me by my baptismal name settles it,” 
said Judith, with assumed finality. “I’ll apolo- 
gize, Jane Allen. What do you propose to do, 
and when are you going to do it? May I act as 
your honorable secretary?” 

“Yes, come with me tonight and pay a visit 
at Lenox. I want to talk Sally into going to 
the dance. The girls are so fond of her and she 
happens to be one of our pets. I really don’t 
know how it happens but it has, and it would 


JUNIOR 


207 


look shabby if we were to leave her out. So she 
must come.” 

'‘Got to,” agreed Judith. “She’s so smart, 
every freshman is envious. Did you hear Miss 
Roberts, the real Noah Webster of Wellington, 
rave about her thesis?” 

“Clever girls are so apt to cut dances,” said 
Jane. “We must assume the missionary 
spirit ” her voice trailed solemnly. 

This was too much for the turbulent Judith, 
as Jane intended it should be. 

“I’ll go. I’ll go !” she cried out in protest. “Al- 
though I hate to think of Teddy having to choose 
between me and daffodilly Sally; still I’ll go, 
Jane, to save you another spasm like that. 
Where’s the Logic? Do you suppose Ethics 
will be easier? Or perhaps worse — ^likely worse,” 
she was slamming book pages violently. “Now 
don’t speak to me for one half hour. Then do 
your worst.” 

But while Judith was studying Jane slipped 
out of the room ostensibly for a breath of fresh 
air. All her chum’s hilarity was appreciated, but 
just now things were assuming a serious turn 
and Jane felt some responsibility for the swing 
of the turntable. 

“Judy’s a dear, but she hasn’t a daddy’s schol- 


208 


JANE ALLEN: 


arship to fight for,” Jane told herself. “And the 
marked change in my rebellious Shirley may 
only be a preliminary to another outbreak. IVe 
just got to see the girls before the lecture/’ and 
she fiew from the inopportune mirth of Judith 
Stearns. 

Shirley and Sarah were together in Shirley’s 
room — not at the foot of the attic stairs now, but 
a tiny “nest” under the artistic eaves, chosen for 
effect on the purse, as well as on the eye. 

“I can’t do it,” Shirley was arguing, as Jane 
came to the door. “I simply am through at mid- 
year.” 

Surprised at this statement, Jane knocked 
quickly to forestall further disclosure. Both girls 
answered, and Jane found them glad — even anx- 
ious to see her. 

“You are both surely coming to the dance,” 
she began, falling into Sally’s prettiest cushions. 
“I came over just to make sure.” 

“Oh, Miss Allen,” wavered Sally. “I can’t 


“Now, Sally,” Jane began, “please don’t con- 
sider it is at all ignoble to be financially embar- 
rassed. In fact, more than half of our girls are 
continually ‘rationed,’ as they call a cut in allow- 


JUNIOR 


209 


ance. And if it is only a matter of a pretty little 
flowered gown ” 

“No, that isn’t it,” interrupted Sally. 

“The fact is. Miss Allen, we are both getting 
ready to — escape,” said Shirley, with a double- 
edged laugh. 

“Escape?” 

“Go home and desert!” 

J ane showed her astonishment. “You couldn’t 
mean anything like that!” she gasped. “Oh, you 
wouldn’t be so disloyal!” 

The girls looked at each other, puzzled, neither 
seeming to know what might be best to reply. 
Finally Shirley said: 

“You must know. Miss Allen, I am totally un- 
prepared for exams, and I see no reason why I 
should face them. I plan to stay home after the 
Christmas vacation.” 

“Shirley !” exclaimed J ane. “If you ever knew 
my dad you wouldn’t treat him like that,” her 
voice quavered with excitement. “He seems to 
think more of the record of his scholarship girl 
than of his own daughter’s achievements. Oh, 
you can’t mean you are going to cut!” 

“Your daddy!” repeated Shirley. “I didn’t 
suppose he cared a snap for his — beneficiary.” 

“Beneficiary indeed! He called you a very 


210 


JANE ALLEN: 


different name. He is a great, big western 
man, with a heart as fine as the hills and a soul 
as true as their granite.’’ Jane did not pause to 
note the effect of her words, although Shirley was 
almost gasping. “He has what some might call 
a deep personal interest in the girl he sponsors 
at Wellington, but it’s more than interest,” she 
was almost breathless, “it’s affection; my dad 
just naturally loves the girl he sends here, and 
if she fails him utterly ” 

“Stop! Miss Allen, please do,” Shirley en- 
treated. Her face was flushed and her breath- 
ing plainly audible. “I had no idea it was like 
that. Your dad would care? And I would be 
a coward?” 

Sally stood like one shocked into deadly silence. 
Not even her lips parted, and the color left her 
face sickly white. 

“Don’t you know, don’t you understand what 
it means for a student to deliberately flunk? 
Not even to try?” demanded Jane. 

“Bobbie!” said Sally to the big girl who was 
trying to find words. “We have got to try — 
you cannot — go.” 

Then Jane knew why the girls had been calling 
Shirley Bobbie. It was her companion’s affec- 
tionate name for her. 


JUNIOR 


21 1 


“Yes, Kitten,” Shirley said. “We have got to, 
but now, how can we do it?” 

The situation was becoming more difficult each 
moment, and when presently Jane Allen left the 
two freshmen, she had taken on the weight of a 
new mystery. 

Those girls were in a conspiracy to desert be- 
fore exams. Why? 


CHAPTER XXI 


CRAMMING EVENTS 

N OW, what can we do? However are we 
going to get out of this?” Sally asked 
Shirley. They seemed desperate. 

“I don’t know. How differently things have 
turned out from our expectations? I wouldn’t 
mind anything but that darling dad of Jane’s. 
The thought sickens me,” and the bobbed head 
drooped dejectedly. 

“But I am more at fault than you,” sobbed 
Sally. “I feel like running away from every- 
thing.” 

“So do I, but we neither will do it. That’s 
the trouble with reformation. I told you I 
should hate to be reformed — it tags on so many 
responsibilities. But we are both in for it. And 
the dance and Ted wanting to come! 

“Yes, isn’t it just dreadful? What shall we 
do?” 

“He has got to come, of course. Couldn’t 
disappoint that boy. Oh, I’ll tell you. Kitten! 


212 


JANE ALLEN: JUNIOR 


213 


Let’s write and tell him he must play cousin to 
both of us. We’ll give him a name, say Teddy 
Barrett, and then all the girls will be crazy about 
him, and he will be sure to go in for a larkl” 

‘‘That might do,” agreed Sally. “It would 
seem cruel to keep him away. But Jiow about 
our mail? We can’t have it come to Dol’s box 
any more.” 

“Don’t want to; won’t have anything to do 
with her,” snapped Shirley. “I have a box of 
our own, and don’t see why we didn’t think of it 
before. She is writing me all sorts of apologies, 
of course, just wants more money, but I know 
now we might have done this whole thing differ- 
ently if it had not been for her interference. It 
was she who scared us so of Jane Allen and her 
friends. And they would have been such a help 
if I had not been — so mulish.” 

“Never mind,” Sally tried to console her. “We 
could not possibly foresee — although I should 
like to foresee how to get out of it all without 
scandalizing Jane.” 

“Trust one step to lead to the next,” said Shir- 
ley, and that sounded like a proverb of Jane’s. 
(Queer how much Jane and Shirley were alike 
fundamentally.) “Write to Ted and we’ll have 
one ‘whale’ of a time at the dance.” 


214 


JANE ALLEN: 


“But I haven’t decided to go?” 

“Oh, yes, you have. Kitten. Wait until you 
see the old fairy godmother unload her pump- 
kin. Or did she carry the dress on a broomstick? 
I forget the details. At any rate, while I’m 
thinking of a way to appease the wrath of Jane’s 
father by not dishonoring his scholarship, it is 
the very least you can do to get ready for the 
dance. I know where you can hire a love of a 
dress — lots of girls do it — ” as Sally drew up 
a little, “and it only costs five dollars. Let me 
give you that for Christmas. Write your letter, 
or shall I do it? Bamboozle Ted until he won’t 
even guess our real meaning, but insist we are his 
cousins, with first names only.” 

“But he would have to introduce us fo his boy 
friends?” objected Sally. 

“Well, that’s all right. He can do that and 
we’ll just tell him we are playing a joke. Col- 
lege boys adore jokes, don’t they?” 

“Pretty much of a muddle, but I’ll try it,” 
assented Sally finally. “And I suppose I could 
spare that five dollars.” 

“I can at any rate. And did you see Miss 
Allen stare when you called me Bobbie?” 

“Yes, hut many of the girls have taken that 


JUNIOR 


215 


up. It goes so well with your bobbed hair. 
Don’t mind do you?” 

“Not a bit. Call me Pickles if you like — ^that 
would go well with my disposition.” Shirley 
was hurriedly gathering up books and papers 
from the little table both girls used as a desk in 
Sally’s room under the eaves. “Do you realize 
we have spent one hour talking? It’s all very 
well for you, Kitten; you can have a recitation 
prepared or write a theme as easily as I can fail. 
If I had your talent I would never leave this 
college without an A. B.,” she declared emphati- 
cally. 

“I wonder, Bobbie, did we make a gigantic 
mistake. If we had not been so influenced by 
Dol Vin’s idea, perhaps we might have managed 
some way without all that hateful pretense. I 
can’t help blaming myself dreadfully. And to 
think Miss Allen is so kind without being patron- 
izing ” 

“Look here. Kit,” demanded Shirley. “I 
know you could have come here without that 
plan, but what could have put me through? 
Nothing but the scholarship. So please don’t be 
getting morbid. We may have been foolish, but 
we did what seemed right, and Dol Vin was a 
mighty convincing friend. I’ll admit. The ques- 


n6 


JANE ALLEN: 


tion now is the dance, then Ted, and then — I 
don’t know, maybe I’ll escape in the night,” and 
the old time rebel spirit danced in the sharp, dark 
eyes. 

Sally piled up her notes and followed Shirley 
out to recitation. It was not easy now to finish 
the task which at first seemed almost alluring. It 
was like trying to uproot some gentle affection 
to plan to actually leave Wellington. 

The girls’ secret was spreading poisonous ten- 
drils over every other act and thought; nothing 
now seemed untouched by that malicious decep- 
tion, and the very crisis now imminent — was 
uglyl And this was what both had planned and 
worked for — ^to leave Wellington at midyear? 

They had not reckoned on the power of girls’ 
love for girls, and of education’s influence on 
sentiment. 

Sally Howland had been steeling herself 
against “growing fond of things” and that very 
repression made her its victim; Shirley Duncan 
defied these conditions and was punished with a 
“true case” of the epidemic called Environment. 
So that both now seemed all but helpless at the 
crisis. 

A day or two before the dance, when arrange- 
ments were running as smoothly as the little lake 


JUNIOR 


217 


that dripped through the big grounds of Wel- 
lington, a general hike was planned. Each de- 
partment, freshmen, sophs, juniors and seniors, 
arranging to go out tramping over the wonder- 
ful hills of upper New York state, touching 
quarries, testing rocks, hunting nuts and cram- 
ming into the one pre-holiday jaunt such va- 
rious needs of outdoor work as were found in 
the studies then being under test in all grades and 
classes. 

Thus far it was an open winter; no snow, flur- 
ries failing miserably to do more than make the 
air look pretty for a few minutes, and even 
brooks had kept up their rippling music, chat- 
tering away over rock and rill, blissfully uncon- 
scious that Winter’s deathly breath must soon 
paralyze every little vein and artery into a rigid, 
frozen crystal surface. 

The December hike was a fixture at Welling- 
ton, and as many of the faculty as could do so 
went with the classes, to urge, to inspire, to 
prompt and to supervise; not to omit the more 
enjoyable function of chumming with the stu- 
dents. Troopers they all were, dressed in imita- 
tion of the Girl Scouts as far as khaki went 
around, the others sporting golf togs and carry- 
ing water bottles or even “grub” in the conveni- 


2I8 


JANE ALLEN: 


ent golf bags slung over sturdy young shoulders. 

No need to dwell on the glories of that day, for 
a hike on paper carries little sport and usually 
less material of vital interest. A hike must be 
“hiked” to be real, the “grub” must be munched 
by the side of a stream, and the wild things ven- 
turing out for crumbs must be “seen to be ap- 
preciated,” as the “ad” says; so that it would 
seem unreal to attempt to put into words the 
glories of a day in the woods with the Welling- 
tons. 

What if Ted Guthrie, the fat, funny, facetious 
Ted, did slide down a hill and take most of the 
hill with her? or if Nettie Brocton climbing a 
tree for dogwood berries attempted to fly by the 
merest accident? She had no choice but to drop 
into an ugly hole otherwise, so she spread out 
and gave a flying leap to the side of safety and 
made it. No one tried to keep track of “Bob- 
bie,” as the country girl was now popularly 
known, for she ran, climbed, crawled and bur- 
rowed, until Jane and Judith had cause to step 
lively indeed to keep up with her. Jane, accus- 
tomed to the great fastnesses of the Northwest 
around her Montana home, fairly glowed with 
the spirit of contest, and being Jane it must ulti- 


JUNIOR 


219 


mately be set down that Bobbie lost a point or 
two in the final scoring. 

What a day and what scratches, bruises and 
blisters recorded it ! 

“No bones broken!” was the guide’s slogan, 
and they were well satisfied to have the precept 
fulfilled without undue court plaster. 

Coming home the gay groups fell into their 
usual lines, and separated into such little parties 
as suited best the confidences of their members. 

Ted Guthrie chose to take a ride in the big car 
of Temple Gaitley, the sponsor of Wellington 
who lived at its gates and shared her prosperity 
with any student worthy of the name. Ted would 
rather ride than walk, after her sliding tourna- 
ment, and along with her there piled into the car 
as many foot-sore hikers as the big open car 
could possibly hold, stretching the word at that. 

It was almost evening, the day turned so quick- 
ly, when Jane, Judith, Dozia and the two fresh- 
men, Sally and Shirley, cut across the golf links 
to touch town for some drug store supplies, be- 
fore going into the college grounds. 

The little village always seemed kindly at this 
hour, for folks going home from work formed its 
chief feature of public interest, and the tan bark 
streets were now being fairly well utilized. 


220 


JANE ALLEN: 


‘‘I’ll get some stamps,” said Shirley, “while 
you girls hunt for your soaps. Let’s round this 

corner ” She stopped short, for as they cut 

suddenly from the side street into the main ave- 
nue they almost stumbled into a crowd! 

“What’s up?” asked Shidey tritely. 

“An arrest,” answered a man pushing his bi- 
cycle. “And I guess old Sandy ain’t made no 
mistake this time. He’s caught the banshee!” 

“Yes, sir,” snapped an overgrown boy. 
“That’s what she is. Keepin’ folks awake howl- 
in’ !” 

Sally clutched Shirley’s arm. “See, it’s Dol’s 
friend, the actress!” 

“Sure enough, the foreign element witlua name 
like crocheting,” said Shirley. “I always knew 
she would come to grief with that howling. 
Girls!” to Jane and the others. “Could we go 
to the Town Hall and find out what happens? 
That’s the ghost of Lenox Hall, the woman who 
screamed at midnight.” 

Too astonished to offer comment the girls 
drifted along with the crowd, and a break in the 
ranks afforded just a glimpse of Officer Sandy 
with a very tall, fancifully dressed, but very 
much disheveled prisoner. She walked along 
with the officer as if he might have been a crea- 


JUNIOR 


221 


ture of a lower order of creation, but as the boys 
said, “Sandy did have her goin’.” 

And she was the “foreign element,” the ob- 
noxious visitor at the beauty shop, who was so 
sorely and fatally stage struck that she had se- 
riously disturbed the peace of decorous little 
Bingham! 

“She would yell right out in the night, like a 
hoot owl only fiercer!” insisted one of her fol- 
lowers. “And she ain’t safe to be loose with a 
habit like that.” 

“Defyin’ the law and disturbin’ the peace,” 
growled Sandy, “I’ve had a warrant for that 
noise ever since it scared old Mrs. Miner into 
fits and she was took to the horspittal on account 
of it.” 

“City folks is all right in their place,” squeaked 
a thin little woman, one of the very few women in 
that crowd, “but if that kind is allowed to run 
wild over our quiet home towns, I say what is 
Bingham cornin’ to?” Queer noises without 
words gave answer. 

The Wellingtons, with other followers, were 
now almost in front of the Town Hall, when the 
victim of this country prejudice espied Shirley. 

“There is someone who knows me!” she cried 
out. “Ask that young lady and she’ll tell you 


222 


TANE ALLEN: JUNIOR 


I’m a legitimate actress, and that I came out here 
to have room to practice !” 

Shirley “ducked,” as Judith put it, but Sally, 
more sympathetic, offered to interfere. 

“Don’t,” begged Jane. “We were at this 
court only a short time ago. We don’t want to 
wear out our welcome. Come along, girls; I, as 
junior, am responsible for getting you back on 
time. Come along.” 

“Yes,” said Shirley bitterly. “Do come along, 
girls. That’s about the way this lady left me 
when my horse threw me off on the hill. She 
was not anxious about me then and I guess she 
isn’t as much in danger now as I was at that 
time,” and when Officer Sandy piloted his charge 
in before the recorder, the doors were closed and 
the hearing was made private. 


CHAPTER XXII 


STARTLING DISCLOSURES 

O NCE more Shirley had the center of the 
stage — a position she loved when it en- 
tailed the telling of a thrilling story. 
And at last the ghost story ‘‘was ripe,” as Jane 
expressed it, 

“Tell us,” she demanded, without regard for 
the race to college during the telling, “who is 
that woman and what do you mean by calling 
her the ghost.” 

“She’s an actress,” declared Shirley, “that is, 
she thinks she is, and she has lots of money and 
a poor head for managing it. In fact, I have 
always thought her erratic. You see,” went on 
Shirley, supporting herself by “linking” into the 
accommodating arms extended, “Dol Vin fetched 
her out here from the city so that she could prac- 
tice her howling. She was cast for a part with a 
wild scream in it, and every time she attempted 
to practice someone interfered, the police 
usually.” 

223 


224 


JANE ALLEN: 


“No wonder,” interrupted Jane. “Why 
couldn’t she stick to the theater for rehearsing?” 

“Her own idea,” went on Shirley, importance 
of the occasion echoing in her tone. “She 
wanted to get it down pat and startle her man- 
ager into starring her. It seems a great deal 
depended on that frightful scream and she kept 
at it every chance she got.” Here the girls 
threatened to outdo the “lady of the scream,” but 
rough walking checked the attempts. They also 
reahzed her fate. 

“But how did she get the chance to go up in 
Lenox attic?” asked Dozia when her voice could 
be heard. “As I suppose it was she who ripped 
out that terrifying yell ” 

“That I rang the fire bell to cover,” put in 
Sally gleefully. 

“And that the fire department wanted to turn 
the hose on,” chimed in Judith. 

“Now let me tell it,” demanded Shirley. 

“Please do,” insisted Jane. 

“Well, she had more than a scream to put in 
her important part, so'she said! She had also 
to do some wild acting and Dol Vin is responsible 
for the idea of Madam Zwachevsky ” 

“Oh, spare us,” cried Jane. “That sounds like 
an epidemic.” 


JUNIOR 


225 


“It’s the name she wastes ink on, but I will 
spare you girls. Hereafter she shall be Madam 
Z/’ agreed Shirley. 

“Oh, hurry! Shirley,” entreated Dozia. “Here 
we are at the Cedars, and we never could wait 
for the rest of that story until after supper.” 

“I’ll rush it through, but Sally, do stop pinch- 
ing me,” she teased, just to make Sally run on 
ahead in contradiction. “Well, Dol Vin didn’t 
want that racket around her shop, so I suppose 
she told Madam Z to try it on Lenox,” con- 
tinued the raconteur. “They both insisted it 
would be a wonderful hazing stunt, and that no 
college freshman’s life was complete without a 
lively ghost scare. I didn’t think it would be 
more than a lot of fun, so I promised not to tell,” 
admitted Shirley. 

They were at the very gate now where the 
girls had no choice but to separate in prepara- 
tion for the evening meal, but it was wonderful 
how quickly the food was disposed of and how 
soon they were back again in Jane’s room for the 
conclusion of the ghost story. 

Jane and Judith could not but notice satisfac- 
tion glowing in the freshmen’s manner when they 
were invited into the junior’s room. This had 
been one of Sliirl^y’s apibitions, and she did uot 


226 


JANR ALLEN^: 


hide her pleasure at its fulfillment. And if she 
and Sally felt any qualms of conscience for their 
own small part in the tragedy of Madam Zeit 
was entirely covered by the eagerness with which 
the girls hailed the recital. 

“We both insisted at first that she should not 
dare come on the campus ” began Sally. 

“Now, Kitten, I’ll take all the blame,” inter- 
rupted Bobbie. “Land knows, you made fuss 
enough. Cried ” 

“Oh please ” 

“Well, you did,” insisted Bobbie, “even went 
into hysterics. But I thought it would be a lark, 
although really I had no idea the creature would 
ever find her way up there. I don’t see how she 
did. We had no part in her getting in,” she ex- 
plained eagerly. 

“Dol Vin knew all about the attic,” declared 
Janet Clarke. “She was always prowling about 
there for theatrical stuff; don’t you remember, 
Jane, how she frightened the girls one night with 
some foolish prank when she was dressed like a 
bear or something worse?” 

“Oh, yes, of course I do,” recalled Jane. “And 
she did continually hunt around Lenox, although 
she belonged with the sophs.” 

“That accounts for it then,” finished Bobbie. 


JUNIOR 


227 


“I am willing to confess that I conspired to hide 
the crime, but I took no part in planning it. Lit- 
tle Kitten almost died of fright during the whole 
thing, but I thought it a lot of fun to hear the 
chains rattle, and I hunted up stories to match. 
But I was not in Lenox the night of the grand 
finale when she actually tried out the big scream.” 

“Well, no wonder the poor babes were scared 
blue,” said Judith. “And Jane, you can now 
tell all about your discovery of the old dumb- 
waiter under the tower. That will make the 
story complete.” 

“Don’t let any more girls in here,” ordered Do- 
zia, for knocking at the door gave warning of 
an influx. “There is no need to give everyone 
this private hearing. We might want to make a 
real story of it for the ^Blare " — our holiday 
edition just needs a live feature like this.” So 
the taps were “deflected” and Jane recounted 
her story. She told it so graphically that by the 
time she reached the “big, black hole, and the 
groaning ropes of the old dummy” the girls were 
howling and tumbling around in a pretty good 
imitation of Madam Z herself. They shud- 
dered, acted the spook, and Judith proclaimed 
something like the old “Curfew shall not” in her 
swing out the window that she imagined went 


228 


JANE ALLEN: 


with the wild night’s terrors. This detail of Ju- 
dith’s upset things some, for she fell off the couch 
(her pedestal for the tragic act), and although 
she rebounded quickly there were squeals and 
protests from “toes and fingers.” 

Sally’s eyes were like two twinkling blue stars 
during all this. Jane and Judith, more than any 
of the others, guessed correctly what a relief this 
hour of fun had brought to her tortured mind. 
And to think there was no blame, not even criti- 
cism! What is there more delightfully elastic 
than the mind and the heart of the young college 
girl? 

“And I’ll tell you how this same lady induced 
me to put on those foolish togs and hire the frisk- 
iest horse at Clayton’s,” further volunteered 
Shirley. She evidently thought if that much had 
been good a lot more would be a lot better. So 
she allowed herself to rock a little in Jane’s cozy 
chair while she told of a bet — yes, she had actu- 
ally fallen so low — she did bet five dollars 
that she could ride any horse in that stable. 
Again the girls applauded — ^there was danger 
now in their generous approval. » 

“And so I could have done it safely if old 
Zeezie had kept to the roads. But she wanted to 
show off on the hill in front of Warburton Hall,” 


JUNIOR 


229 


flared Shirley, “and you all know how I made 
out at that.” Howls, groans and wails answered 
this. 

“And what happened to the five?” asked prac- 
tical Dozia. 

“She never had the courage to collect,” replied 
Shirley, and Jane then felt the obligation of 
quickly shifting the subject, for just a hint of 
gloom crossed the country girl’s face at this 
point. 

“But what about this last episode?” asked 
Jane. “How do you suppose Zeezie came into 
Sour Sandy’s clutches?” 

“I know how that happened,” spoke up Sally, 
doing her part to relieve Shirley of the embar- 
rassment that seized her at mention of her acci- 
dent. “This so-called actress is really not right 
mentally. I know it, but, as Bobbie says, she 
has lots of money, so of course ” 

“Dol Vin snapped her up,” said Judith. 

“Yes, and you know the Rumson place? That 
old stone mansion right in the heart of the coun- 
try folks settlement ?” ( They all knew the Rum- 
son.) “Well, I believe she has been going out 
there every afternoon to rehearse. She would 
drive out in a hired car and dismiss the man. 
Then she raved around and did so much loud 


230 


JANE ALLEN: 


talking to herself, and even screaming, that the 
whole neighborhood was up in arms. I heard 
the other day the folks around Rumson had 
called on the police to stop the nuisance.” 

“No wonder they would,” agreed Jane. “The 
children must have been frightened out of their 
senses.” 

“They were,” went on Sally. “So I suppose 
old Sandy just set his trap for her ” 

“And snapped it tonight,” concluded Jane. 
“Well, I must say she was a character. Ajid to 
think we all missed the open air performance!” 

“And to think you and I let her escape from 
Lenox, Jane, the night of the alarm.” 

“What a shame we didn’t know she was mak- 
ing her exit by way of the dummy?” 

“But in that awful dark place,” put in Janet 
with an appropriate shudder. 

“Oh, she was just armed to the eyes with flash 
lights,” Shirley told them. “I never saw such an 
outfit as that tragedy queen sported.” 

“Oh, woe is us!” cried out Judith, so loudly 
that a pair of hands, one from Jane, the other 
from Janet, was clapped over the unruly mouth. 
When she promised to speak lower she was al- 
lowed to proceed. “But think of missing the 
court room scene! I am sure she went through 


JUNIOR 


231 


a Lady Macbeth act and tried to stab poor old 
Sour Sandy!” Again the spontaneity of Dozia 
illustrated the talk, and she made a jab at Jane 
with the latter’s riding crop. 

‘‘And then think of the fun of actually hearing 
her give the famous screech as exhibit A?” put in 
J ane. “What a pity they made the hearing pri- 
vate?” 

“I’ll explain that,” condescended Janet, who, 
having no story to tell, needed some outlet. “You 
see, they arrest people here in Bingham just to 
keep things going, and have the officers do some- 
thing besides draw their pay envelopes, so Sandy 
took in Zeezie as his quota of service for Decem- 
ber.” 

“And I suppose I filled that requirement for 
November,” recalled Judith, with a disdainful 
pucker. 

“Take care you are not listed next, Dozia,” 
warned Janet. “You do talk very loud at times. 
Woke me up last night.” 

Shirley arose and glanced at the little gilt 
clock. 

“I guess we little ’uns will have to cut this 
lovely party,” she said politely. “We really have 
a lot of things to do tonight. And who hasn’t 
for the dance?” 


232 


JANE ALLEN: 


“We will walk over with you,” volunteered 
Jane. “Judy and I always take a stroll before 
we start cramming.” 

“Which is just about equivalent to saying we 
may vamoose, said Dozia. “All right, stroll 
along, the ghost is safe tonight, at any rate.” 

“And if she gets off with a fine I suppose she 
will be on a train for New York before morn- 
ing,” concluded Sally, with a satisfied quirk of 
her yellow head. 

Outside the hall Shirley and Sally almost 
smothered Jane with protestations. 

“I thought I would die!” cried Shirley, “but 
the steely fire of your eyes, Miss Allen, kept urg- 
ing me on. And now I have at least told all that 
hateful story!” 

“I could hardly sit still,” gasped Sally, holding 
tightly to Jane’s friendly arm. “It was like a 
play, but I was so ashamed ” 

“Ashamed! I was never more proud of two 
girls in all my life,” declared resourceful Jane, 
with unmistakable sincerity. “Why, you both 
had the girls fascinated ” 

“You had them hypnotized,” insisted Sally. 
“It is really wonderful to be popular among such 
a set of girls,” and her voice just touched a tone 
of regret. 


JUNIOR 


233 


“Indeed, we all have to share honors with you 
two entertainers,” said Jane positively. “You 
see, the girls first of all want a good time, and if 
you help provide that legitimately, of course, 
you can count on polling a heavy vote in any 
popularity contest.” 

“Jane Allen is no monopolist,” said Judith 
significantly. It was obvious Jane was deter- 
mined to share honors with the two bewildered 
freshmen. That was her way of making things 
pleasant. 

“Now run along and get your togs ready for 
the dance,” said Jane, “and be sure to give me a 
lot of dances with Teddy!” 

“Teddie!” sang out the two freshmen. 

“Why yes, your nice brother, Ted,” said Ju- 
dith innocently. “ W e heard he was coming ” 

“And we found a piece of paper long ago,” 
added Jane gently, “that bore the name Ted. 
It was in the attic, and we dug it out of the 
ghost’s breastplate.” 

“You didn’t!” exclaimed Shirley, in a tone 
that meant “You don’t say so!” She stopped 
short in her tracks. “And that was the letter 
we never got, Kitten. Zeezie had been entrusted 
to deliver it and she claimed she lost it.” Shir- 


234 


JANE ALLEN: JUNIOR 


ley could hardly speak distinctly — emotion 
seemed to choke her. 

“Oh, can we have it?” asked Sally, her trem- 
bling lips telling on the jerky sentence. 

“Right here,” replied Jane indifferently, tak- 
ing a small white slip from her blouse. “I have 
wanted so much to give it to you, but there never 
seemed to be a real opportunity.” 

It was Sally who put out her hand. 

“I think it is for Shirley,” interposed Jane. 

“Give it to Kitten,” said Shirley. “We have 
no secrets from each other now.” 

“But Ted and the dance?” asked Judith, not 
to be put off on that score. 

“Oh,” faltered Sally. “Of course we will hand 
Ted around.” She had not quite recovered from 
her surprise at the finding of the long lost let- 
ter. “And, Miss Allen, please, whatever hap- 
pens, don’t let anything spoil tonight ” 

“I won’t, certainly not,” replied Jane, as the 
freshmen broke away towards Lenox. 


CHAPTER XXIII 


THE DANCE 

T he night of the dance had come, than 
which Wellington could produce no 
more momentous occasion. For days 
the students had been decorating Old Warbur- 
ton Hall, stripping their own rooms to the point 
of desolation to pile their banners, their flags, 
and even their mandolins around the big hall, in 
artistic and effective settings from ceiling to the 
smallest nook around the chimney corner win- 
dows. Judith and Jane were responsible for the 
‘'Bosky Dell” created around the Inglenook. 
Here the mandolins were cluttered, and about 
the walls were such artistic woodiness as branches 
of bright red berries, then sprays of dark gray 
bayberry, glowing sumac, deep brown oak leaves, 
and this applied foliage provided the “Bosky” 
for the juniors’ pretty dell. 

All college departments shared the honors of 
decorating, each depending upon its originality 
to outshine the others, so that now when all was 
finished and the students dveyv impart to decorate 
235 


236 


JANE ALLEN: 


themselves the atmosphere fairly vibrated vpith 
expectancy. 

Under the eaves in Sally’s room she and Bob- 
bie were putting on finishing touches. Too full 
of youth to give place to regret, these two fresh- 
men were keyed to the full pitch of the big, jolly, 
gleeful occasion. 

“Can you imagine us going, and bound for 
such a good time?” said Sally, while Bobbie 
fluffed the maline butterfly from her companion’s 
shoulders. 

“Like a jolly time at a funeral,” replied the 
other, her tone of voice softening the comparison. 

“Dear me, must we really leave?” sighed Sally. 
“I have been hoping for a miracle.” 

“So have I, Kitten, but we have had a couple 
of miracles lately and it wouldn’t be fair to over- 
work the fairies. There, you look just like a 
golden butterfly. Oh, really. Kit, you — are — a 
dream!” 

Bobbie was responsible for the color scheme 
adopted by her chum, and its success was just 
now rather inadequately reflected in the conven- 
tional mirror that formed a door to the narrow 
wardrobe. Sally was gowned in gold and white, 
and the gold of her hair completed the “dream.” 
A big yellow butterfly she was indeed, with the 


JUNIOR 


237 


sleazy, clinging, white draperies wound around 
her slender form, then the wings of golden maline 
pinioned on either softly rounded shoulder. Sally 
was a perfect little beauty, and also possessed 
that whimsical manner so attractive in this deli- 
cate, fragile type. 

“How do I look, anyhow?” asked Bobbie, and 
the “anyhow” betrayed her hopelessness. 

“Don’t you really know you are stunning?” 
replied Sally. “Bobbie, your height and figure 
are in such splendid accord with that American 
Beauty ! Whew, girl ! I can see who shall charm 
the partners tonight.” 

“Do I honestly look — ^well?” persisted the 
other. “I wish my hair were long enough to 
turn up.” 

“I don’t. It is so becoming in that halo just 
as round as a crown, and more curly every min- 
ute. If all misfortunes really have their com- 
pensations, then, Bobbie, put down the curls op- 
posite your accident.” 

The big girl peered closer to the mirror. She 
never could be vain but just now she might be 
pardoned a flicker of satisfaction. She did look 
well, the Ajnerican Beauty satin made such a 
startling background for her peculiarly true 
American type. 


238 


JANE ALLEN: 


“Now, if we are all primped and preened, sup- 
pose we rehearse,” said Bobbie, powdering the 
last finger of her left hand to a finish. “You are 
sure Ted has his lesson all clear and that our — 
masquerade will not be spoiled?” 

“He was just wild about the lark, and wrote a 
whole page of effusions such as boys always in- 
dulge in,” replied Sally. “He says he may stick 
to Barrett for a name, it has such a twangy 
sound, whatever that may mean; and he also 
promised to be led by us even to the extent of 
breaking his own gay heart.” 

“Nice boy. I hope our little skit won’t spoil 
his fun. It is just for that, you know, little chum, 
I have agreed to postpone my fiight. But be 
sure of one thing — I shall fiy before I ever face 
that wonderful crowd of girls we were with last 
night, after the discovery.” 

“Does it all seem so hideous still?” asked Sal- 
ly. “I have felt as if some of the black horror 
were wearing off.” 

“Mine is turning green — a dark, dark moldy 
green of envy. Why didn’t I know four months 
ago just a few of the precious things I see so 
vividly now?” Bobbie sat down at the risk of 
spoiling some of her preening. Also she ruffed 
her long (now well cared for)" fingers through 


JUNIOR 


239 


her short hair with distracting indifference, but 
not a ringlet showed any ill effects, each fell back 
on her broad, low forehead in its original place, 
without a kink of disorder in the line. 

“I have learned more than the Wellington 
course offered,” said Sally,” and one thing I am 
now sure of. Our small towns may offer advan- 
tages in freedom and security, but they restrict 
us in a choice of friends and companions. How 
could we possibly have guessed that the very girl 
and her group we expected to antagonize should 
be our deliverers?” 

“I don’t quite get your flow of words. Kitten, 
but I do agree with their meaning. Yes, small 
towns can turn out gigantic specimens of con- 
ceited ego. And that conceit is like a paraffine 
coating; air tight against personal progress, ab- 
sorbent for the poisons of jealousy and envy. 
There, that sounds as if I have learned a little 
English, doesn’t it? But it isn’t enough to face 
Miss Robert’s exams.” 

‘Tt’s after eight. There are the girls slam- 
ming doors in the first jazz number,” said Sally. 
‘‘Come along, Bobbie, and smile your warmest. 
Then we shall defy fate for a few more happy 
hours at least.” 

Swallowed up immediately in the swirl of 


240 


JANE ALLEN: 


young students heading for the dance ‘‘Kitten 
and Bobbie” were presently on the high road to 
defying fate as per schedule. The music from 
the dance room was just feeling its way out of 
brilliantly lighted windows, and the grand old 
campus seemed very proud of itself indeed, as it 
stretched out and made a background for the 
entire picture. 

Flocks of automobiles were nestling along the 
drives, and many a Wellington heart skipped its 
regular beat at the prehminary thought: 

“I wonder if he came yet?” 

From companion colleges the boys were mak- 
ing their way into old Wellington, and the stu- 
dents of Yorktown were apt to be especially 
plentiful. It was from this big college that Ted 
Barrett — alias Ted — somebody’s brother, was 
expected. 

In contrast to the usual line for receiving, such 
as so often makes a farce of the formal social 
event, the seniors and juniors had formed them- 
selves into a ring that surrounded the entrance, 
and through this ring each guest was forced to 
pass in at one end and out at the other in initia- 
tion to W ellington. Jane was chosen to form one 
“clasp” of the circlet, with two tall seniors at 
her side. She gave the welcoming pass-word for 


JUNIOR 


241 


the juniors, and in her hand clasp delivered the 
secret sign. 

As the girls from Lenox entered, the eyes of 
our two special friends immediately sought out 
Jane. Not even the possible presence of Teddy 
offered a distraction, for it seemed now as if 
their fate rested more fully than ever in the 
hands of the girl whose father had given them the 
much abused scholarship. 

“How sweet!” breathed Sally. “Like a 
pansy.” 

“Exactly,” answered Shirley. “Did you ever 
see anything prettier?” 

Jane’s appearance supported this flattery in 
every detail. She wore a flowered frock, geor- 
gette with pansies sprinkled over it, and in her 
coppery hair a small bunch of the same velvet 
flowers was clustered. Among all the others this 
flowered gown seemed distinctive, although Do- 
zia in her ruffles (to cut her height), and Judith 
in her sea foam green (to give her color), were 
indeed highly attractive. 

The indescribable jazz music was see-sawing 
in and out of harmony, and if there were any- 
thing actually shy on the score it was more than 
plentifully supplied by the “ukes,” mandolins 
and banjos of the visiting college boys. 


242 


JANE ALLEN: 


Sally and Shirley had scarcely crossed the 
circle and were melting into the crowd, when 
someone tapped Sally on the shoulder. • 

“Teddy!” exclaimed both girls at once. 

“The same, your obedient coz,” rephed the 
good looking young fellow, eager to show at 
once how well he had learned his lesson. 

“Come over here,” breathed Sally. “I am just 
dying to speak to you.” 

“No fair,” cautioned Shirley. “Don’t forget 
your lines. Kit.” 

“Say, girls, tell me,” implored the youth, let- 
ting his critical eye scale the crowd of pretty 

girls, “what’s this your name is? You’re ” 

to Sally. 

“I’m Sally,” she replied, twinkling prettily, 
“and this is Shirley,” indicating Bobbie. 

“Shirley?” he echoed increduously. 

“Yes, and please don’t ask any more ques- 
jbions just now. Cousin Ted. I have promised 
to introduce you to half of Wellington.” This 
was said so that more than one girl standing near 
overheard; one was Nettie Brocton and she 
quickly took the cue. 

“Just look at that?” she said to Ted Guthrie. 
“Sally acts as if the Teddy were her especial 
cousin.” 



“I’M SALLY,” SHE REPLIED, “AND THIS IS SHIRLEY.” 

“Jane Allen: Junior.” Page 242 





JUNIOR 


243 


“Yes, and Shirley is all but blushing.” 

“Queer,” commented Ted Guthrie. 

Presently the music suggested a One Step 
and without waiting for further coaxing Shirley 
and the handsome Ted floated out among the as- 
sembling dancers. 

He was handsome, and, although that fact 
seems trite just here, it may better be known and 
reckoned with. He was tall, light, nimble and 
flexible as a young birch, as he swayed in and 
out leading the excited Bobbie. 

“Guess I’ll have to call you Bobbie, too,” he 
said in his partner’s ear, after more than one girl 
had pointedly called out, “Hello, Bobbie!” 

“Yes, do, please,” replied Bobbie. “I am get- 
ting so accustomed to it I rather feel it is really 
mine.” 

P “Suits you splendidly,” said Ted, with a boy’s 
idea of compliments being put on thick at 
dances. “And I am sure I would give the game 
away if I ever tried on the Shirley.” 

Bobbie acquiesced just in time to feel Judith 
Stearns’ black eyes demanding to know Teddy. 
The dancers stopped, and after an introduction 
Bobbie was swept off her feet by a new partner, 
while Judith glided off with Teddy, 


244 


JANE ALLEN: 


“Where is Sally?” asked Judith, not seeing the 
little butterfly on the floor. 

“Sally?” repeated the bewildered Ted. Then 
he recovered himself. “Oh, yes. Cousin Sally. 
She’s just over there,” pointing to Jane’s “Bos- 
ky Dell” in a far corner. 

“Your cousin?” repeated the shrewd Judith. 

“Yes, little coz, I alius calls her,” he lisped, 
to cover any possible attempt at piercing his dis- 
guise. 

“But she said she was not related to Bobbie?” 
persisted the irrepressible Judith. 

“She isn’t,” frankly olFered Ted. “She is 
only related to me. Oh, I say. Miss Stearns,” 
he broke off. “Who’s the golden girl over by the 
punch bowl?” 

“I knew it,” trilled Judith. “No one could 
possibly miss her. She’s Jane Allen.” 

“Jane Allen!” he almost interrupted. “She 
whose pater is a benefactor of Wellington?” 

“Yes, the only Jane,” answered Judith glibly. 
“Come over and meet her. I know you will like 
her even better on acquaintance. I don’t mind 
being generous, for J ane and I started together 
here, and from present appearances we seem 
liable to end it together.” 

While she spoke they had ceased dancing, and 


Junior 


245 


Judith fancied she just caught a look of ques- 
tion on the young man’s face. This coupled with 
his inquiry about Jane’s father, Judith at once 
assigned to his knowledge of the scholarship Bob- 
bie had obtained. But even that was nof just 
a correct guess, and it seemed the actual pres- 
ence of this good looking boy from Yorktown 
threatened to add new complications to those al- 
ready surrounding the mysterious freshmen. 

Both reached Jane’s side as Judith and her 
partner came up. Judith presented the much 
talked of “lovely Ted” and perhaps a part of 
Jane’s ebullition was attributable to the code 
shot out from Judith’s flashing eyes. It said 
plainly: 

“Now isn’t he lovely? I told you so!” 

While Jane remembered her own wish: 

“I hope he’s big, clumsy, ugly, etc.,” and of 
course he wasn’t. 

He claimed the dance and presently swept the 
Golden Girl from her place in the little circle. 

“Your cousin?” questioned Judith with a very 
I comprehensive smile. “Bobbie, I never saw a 
: girl blush as you did when a coz whispered into 
i her dancing ear.” 

Wise, discerning Judith! 

I Bobbie blushed again, but she was not going 


246 


JANE ALLEN: JUNIOR 


to be tricked into telling her secret. Her eyes 
flickered until they rested on Nettie Brocton. 

“I must ask Net for a dance,” she said. “I 
suppose it is perfectly proper for a mere freshie 
to do so?” 

“Absolutely,” replied Judith, “but you are not 
slighting me?” 

“Not for worlds, Judy. May I have the 
next?” 

“What’s your hurry just now Bobbie? Try- 
ing to duck me?” 

But a sly glance of challenge gave Judith an- 
swer, as Bobbie hurried away to dance with 
Nettie Brocton. 


CHAPTER XXIV 


KING PIN OF THE FRESHIES 


M USIC and laughter, youth and happi- 
ness! 

What a splendid affair the dance 
turned out to be! Even the staid faculty, acting 
as patronesses, looked on with generous smiles of 
absolute approval. 

As if to add to the gentle flame of curiosity in 
Jane’s circles, she accepted a number of dances 
from Teddy — in fact the big fanciful “T” 
which Jane remembered so well in the spook let- 
ter, was scribbled all over her dancing card, while 
Judith accepted Ray Mann, a chum of Ted’s, in 
complacent substitution. Ray was a capital fel- 
low, with such a stock of chestnut hair he might 
have matched up pretty well with Bobbie, if her 
spare time had not been so filled in with Dave 
Jordan, also a “Yorktown man.” 

Wellington had a reputation for this one big 
social event, the invitations for which were al- 
ways censored by a committee of the officials. 


248 


JANE ALLEN: 


each boy accepted being socially vouched for by 
the patronesses. This was as near as the old col- 
lege would go to co-ed functions, and perhaps 
the fact that these young girls were always left 
to themselves for good times (except at the big 
dance) gave added zest and novelty to the pre- 
holiday event. 

All went merrily indeed, except that Jane was 
almost lost in bewilderment before she and 
Teddie had finished out two dances (halves) and 
one “sitting out” in the Bosky Dell. 

Who was this boy’s relation? she wanted to 
know. And why did Sally so promptly sur- 
render him to all other partners? Sally danced 
so gracefully, and they seemed to step together 
as dancers do who have learned at the same func- 
tions, yet she did surrender him willingly. 

Jane dragged Judith out of the din, and after 
fortifying herself and her chum with two drinks 
of fruit punch, she dragged her further into 
semi-seclusion in the cloak room. 

“What do you make of it?” asked Judith 
fairly twittering with suppressed excitement. 

“That is what I wanted to ask you,” replied 
Jane, swirling her scarf over her shoulders to 
tame down a frolicsome little breeze that danced 
to the jazz music stealing in the cloak room. 


JUNIOR 


249 


“There is a positive mystery about all this. 
Can’t you see how much Ted Barrett looks like 
Sally Howland?” 

“Of course I can,” replied Judith. “But 
surely that letter said ‘sister’ and was written to 
Shirley.” 

“And he is not in any way like Bobbie.” 

“No, and Bobbie is as shy as a baby when 
speaking with him.” Jane bit her lip in serious 
reflection. 

“But isn’t he very nice?” 

“Lovely manners and a very takable boy,” ad- 
mitted Jane. “And say, Judy, I love this mys- 
tery, but we can’t let the freshies beat us at it. 
Be sure you keep your eyes and ears open and 
report anything — suspicious.” 

“Glad to,” Judith accepted the commission. 
“But don’t you like my Ray?” 

“Couldn’t help it,” said Jane affably. “Of 
the two boys I like Ray’s hair best. It’s so — 
smoky.” 

“And Jane! Have you seen who Dozia is lug- 
ging around? That awfully big boy, the foot- 
ball giant of Yorktown.” 

“Makes Doze look small by comparison, and 
that’s an achievement,” said Jane. “There’s 
my dance with Nettie Brocton. If would be 


250 


JANE ALLEN: 


dreadful if we forgot to take care of our own 
little playmates. Isn’t everything going lovely?” 

“Nothing could be improved upon unless it be 
Miss Robert’s hair. That’s a bit lopsided.” 

“But her feather fan is a gem,” said Jane, 
moving toward the dance floor. 

“So is her back comb,” laughed Judith, as the 
chums drifted apart among the dancers. 

A waltz encore was just then being demanded. 
The dancers stood about clapping and insisting 
upon a repetition of the number. Jane and 
Judith waited a moment before their partners 
espied them, and as they lingered they heard the 
girls commenting on Sally. She was, indeed, a 
charming figure as she stood out there with her 
partner, who happened to be Ted; and it was 
Inez Wilson who most particularly noticed the 
two dancers in the center of the floor. She 
seized Jane’s hand and whispered: 

“Oh, Jane, just see how much Sally looks like 
her partner!” 

“Yes,” put in Janet Clarke, “they even have 
the same pose.” 

“Cousins,” said* Jane simply, as she and Nettie 
swung out into the’repeated waltz. 

The resemblance was very remarkable and 
standing with the tall boy in his “Tux” the girl 


JUNIOR 


251 


in her butterfly gown made quite a charming little 
picture. Their isolation at the moment, standing 
well out on the floor almost alone at the end of 
the “fli’st half,” gave them somewhat undue 
prominence, but it also gave everyone a splendid 
opportunity of seeing Ted and of admiring 
Sally’s evening frock. 

When the number ended a group of freshmen 
cornered themselves in a window arch and 
promptly set about whispering some plans. 
Nellie Saunders was leading, and she declared 
Sally was the one to make the presentation. 
Presently a committee of seniors joined them, 
and the purpose of the secret session became evi- 
dent. 

Miss Rutledge, dean of Wellington and be- 
loved mother of the entire flock, was to be pre- 
sented with a glorious bouquet of golden 
chrysanthemums and Sally Howland, the pet 
freshman, had been voted by her class the one to 
do the public honors. 

“Where is she?” asked Anne Morley, the 
senior, waiting to complete the details. 

“Just finished dancing,” volunteered Nellie. 
“I’ll go get her.” 

“When the orchestra plays ‘Wellington,’ 
that’s your cue,” said Miss Morley. “The senior 


252 


JANE ALLEN: 


class president will make her speech and you 
freshmen then send up the flowers. Be sure you 
do it promptly, as the speech has the flowers 
planted in it,” finished the tall, capable senior, 
leaving the younger girls to carry out her orders. 

Nellie was back with Sally immediately. 

‘‘Here she is, and doesn’t her gown go won- 
derfully with the golden ball chrysanthemums?” 
panted Nelhe. 

“Just like a picture,” exclaimed Dolly Lloyd. 
“Be sure you carry them like a bride’s-maid, 
Sally. Maybe a long time before you get 
another chance.” 

“But what is this all about?” gasped Sally, a 
little bit frightened at the importance of the 
great sheaf of yellow blooms propped up in the 
comer. 

“You are to present the flowers to Deanie,” 
said Nellie. “You see, the girls always give her 
something at this dance, and they choose the 
freshies just to act in the capacity of page. You 
don’t have to 'say a word,” as Sally showed reti- 
cence. “A senior makes a speech and you just 
walk up prettily with this corn shock.” 

“Oh, girls, I couldn’t,” exclaimed Sally tragi- 
cally. 

“You couldn’t! Why not?” came a chorus. 


JUNIOR 


253 


‘‘Because — oh, I can’t just explain, but won’t 
yon please excuse me?” 

“No, indeed we will not,” declared Nellie. 
“Just another touch of that timidity we fought 
out when you first came. This is an honor, Sally, 
and we know whom to choose for it. We know 
how you stand in the half year’s record,” and she 
proceeded to straighten out the maline butterfiy 
on Sally’s shoulders — ^no one could seem to resist 
that temptation. 

“I do appreciate the honor,” faltered Sally, 
“but there is a reason — a serious reason why I 
feel I should decline.” 

“Wait a minute! I’ll persuade her,” said 
Dolly, and in the time specified she was back in 
the corner again and had Jane with her. 

“She simply has got to deliver those flowers,” 
explained Nellie. “She matches as if she were 
dressed for the part. See her yellow head, her 
yellow and white gown, the dear little golden 
slippers ; then the great huge, gigantic bunch of 
chrysis — we all chipped in for those ” 

“Miss Allen, please let me off,” begged Sally, 
turning two blue eyes, overflowing with mean- 
ing, full on Jane. 

“I cannot go back on a sorority order,” said 
Jane, wondering why she should. “There’s your 


SANE ALLEN: 


254 

cue, and Sally, here are the flowers. Run along, 
little girl. There’s a dear.” 

Sally was “running along” in the freshmen’s 
glide, almost hidden behind the shock of golden 
balls, before she could further protest. 

“Wellington, dear Wellington!” finished the 
chorus ; and then the senior who was on the little 
platform by the orchestra, called the dean for- 
ward and in “a few well chosen words” told Miss 
Rutledge how much every girl in college loved 
her. 

Dear, gentle, beloved Miss Rutledge! Her 
cameo beauty was not lost even in that group of 
glowing students. She wore her stately helio- 
trope brocade, and her perfectly white wavy hair 
just framed a face soft as damask, with enough 
natural warmth of color to defy any record of 
years. 

Sally glided along with the bouquet, while the 
dean spoke softly, gently, in that strangely far- 
reaching voice peculiar to those who train for 
such concentration. Directly Sally placed the 
flowers in her extended hands applause broke 
loose. 

What music can compete with the simple in- 
spiration of hand clapping? And these students 
knew that score in jazz perfectly. 


JUNIOR 


255 - 

Finally, Sally turned back again in the little 
aisle made for her through the assemblage, and 
before she had proceeded more than a few paces 
Bobbie rescued her. 

‘‘Kitten!’’ she whispered, putting her strong 
arms about the now trembling Sally. “How 
perfectly lovely! Here’s Ted. He is too ex- 
cited to speak. I have just been trying to re- 
store him.” 

“King Pin of the Freshies!” Ted managed to 
orate, seizing Sally’s hand in congratulation. 
“That stunt is something we fellows miss. If it 
were our old ‘Shuffles’ now, likely we would treat 
him to a soft little ball on his renowned pate.” 

“King Pin of the Freshies!” took up Bobbie. 
“Splendid! I’ll tell Nellie that and she can 
chime it in her new class song. Here they are 
claiming you. Kitten. Come on and see what’s 
doing in the rear. Boys” — ^to Teddy — “not 
allowed.” 

“Never are when there’s anything good in 
sight,” replied Ted pleasantly. “Where’s that 
pretty girl — ^my dance — oh, here she is,” and he 
seized Judith for the Drop Step just being in- 
augurated. 

In another hour — ^how short a time it seemed 
— ^the dance was over. University boys were 


256 


JANE ALLEN: 


piling into their cars, and the girls of Wellington 
would presently be back again in that cozy, if 
limited, little world, all their very own. 

What a glorious success it had been! Even 
the night was perfect, and now at the happy 
shouting of “good-byes” the stars blinked down 
mischievously, and a busy old moon took time 
from his science to send out a couple of search- 
light flashes to greet youth on its merry way. 

Ted “Barrett” was saying good-bye to Jane. 
He made opportunity for this, although his com- 
panions were honking their horn recklessly, 
bidding him “come now or stay as long as he 
pleased.” 

“Miss Allen,” said the Yorktown boy, “I can’t 
help telling you personally how fine this has 
been. To have — ^the girls here, I know is due to 
your — special generosity, and some day I hope 
I’ll have a chance to tell you what it has meant 
to me. Just now,” he smiled broadly, “those 
freshies have me bound in their riddle game and 
I can’t talk intelligently; tongue-tied,” he 
finished. 

“I understand,” spoke up Jane, smiling her- 
self. “They are a wonderful team — and I am 
much interested in both.” 

“So am I,” called out the chivalrous Ted, as 


JUNIOR 


257 


he answered an ear-splitting honk from his 
chums and rushed out to the big waiting car. 

Sally and Shirley were at the steps to see him 
off, and now Jane joined them. Ted tossed back 
a freshman’s cap, snatched from the head of a 
luckless “stude” who must go all the way to 
Yorktown uncapped. He threw the ‘‘inkspot” 
out high in the air, and as it came down, somehow 
it managed to come within reach of Jane’s out- 
stretched palm. 

Promptly she donned it, of course, and the 
trophy instantly became an object of excited in- 
terest among the retiring dancers. 

It was only a very small black cloth cap, and 
a poor freshman was now going home with his 
inadequate hand on a cold head in lieu of it, but 
somehow when Jane stuck it on the wall between 
two Wellington pennants, the juniors’ and 
freshmen’s, it seemed a symbol of her mystic re- 
lationship with the girl who carried the Allen 
scholarship. 

“I’ll leave it here until we can clean up,” she 
said looking affectionately at the small black 
spot on the wall. “Then, of course, it goes to my 
room.” 

“Of course,” echoed Judith dolefully. “I sup- 


258 


JANE ALLEN: 


pose the ownership of that puts you in a York- 
town frat.” 

“Hardly, but it will be a little souvenir of this 
wonderful night.” 

Both Sally and Bobbie were beside her now. 
Their cheeks blazed still with excitement, and 
eyes continued the dance even now echoing 
through those beam-bedecked walls. 

“Wasn’t it wonderful?” exclaimed Sally. 

“I never thought I could have such a perfect 
time,” sighed Bobbie. 

“That’s Wellington,” commented Jane loy- 
ally. “We do everything just right under that 
banner,” and picking up her little party bag she 
was ready to leave for sleeping quarters. 

“And do you know what Ted called Kitten 
when she came down from presenting the flow- 
ers?” teased Bobbie. 

“What?” asked Jane merrily. 

“King Pin of the Freshies!” replied Bobbie. 
“Doesn’t that sound like a class yell?” 

“I hope it wdll be some day,” said Jane. But 
Sally’s blue eyes were proclaiming something — 
something far removed from the honor and glory 
promised by her junior sponsor. 

And even Bobbie’s insistent joking could not 
dispel that strange foreboding. 


JUNIOR 


259 


‘‘Sally!” charged Jane, noting her sudden pre- 
occupating, “are you seeing things?” 

“Why?” A flush suffused the face just show- 
ing the tell-tale lines of fatigue. 

“I sometimes think you two girls are base de- 
ceivers,” Jane joked. “You change your cast of 
countenance as quickly as ” 

“Now Janie, you leave our little star alone,” 
ordered Judith. “Seems to me any girl would 
be flustered after a first night of this kind.” 

“Of course,” dimpled Jane. “Here, children, 
please take these things. I will be held respon- 
sible for them and there’s no telling who might 
take a notion to cover her couch with that lovely 
silk scarf.” 

They gathered up the precious trophies, flags 
and scarfs. Then the lights were out at last. 


CHAPTER XXV 


THE DAY AFTER THE BIG NIGHT. 

HE flush of success invaded old Wel- 



lington. As a whole the place seemed 


suffused with a pardonable pride, and as 
individuals each girl seemed justly proud of the 
small part she played in making up that grand 
total. Even the big city papers sent out report- 
ers to get a “good story” of the mid-year dance, 
and more than one scribe waylaid the popular 
girls, pleading for pictures. 

Judith Stearns, as sub-editor of the Blare, 
the college paper, had a part in giving out this 
general publicity, and what a joy it was to de- 
scribe the gowns of Jane, Bobbie, Doze and lists 
of others! 

Jane was busy dismantling the dance room — 
the big assembly room in Warburton — and no 
clas!§es were to be called for any work during the 
morning, so that conditions and students might 
just slide back into orderliness and thence to the 
serious work of finishing the last semester. 


JANE ALLEN: JUNIOR 


261 


Party dresses were packed away by reluctant 
hands, boxes tied up and labelled hopefully for 
the next dance, while heads that had been curled 
for the big occasion bore testimony to the skill of 
many willing fingers (not a few of the fingers 
bearing blisters to still further testify to such 
achievements), and altogether the atmosphere 
was distinctly and decidedly that of the small 
day after the big night before. 

Sally was ruefully tieing up her finery in 
rather compressed packages and Bobbie was 
begging her not to spoil the stuff outright. 

‘‘Don’t act so suicidal. Kitten. Be brave to- 
day for tomorrow we fly!” she misquoted. 

“I can’t see how you can joke about it,” whim- 
pered Sally, bruising her fingers with a jerk at 
too strong a piece of bundle cord. “Really, 
Bobbie, if I ever dreamed it would be as hard as 
this to go, I don’t believe anything would have 
induced me to come.” She bit her bruised finger 
as well as her trembling lip, 

“You don’t mean that. Kitten,” drawled the 
indifferent Bobbie, who had agreed to help pack, 
although she much preferred “firing things in 
trunks” and utilizing packing time out of doors. 
“You would never have known the fun we have 
had here, if you hadn’t come, and isn’t it heaps 


262 


JANE ALLEN: 


better to pay now than never to have known it?” 

“Nothing seems better now — everything is 
worse, coal black, pitch dark, bitter, worse,” 
snapped the usually complaisant Sally. 

“If I had your talent, wild horses couldn’t 
drag me from Wellington,” said Bobbie seri- 
ously. “And I do hope, little Kitten, that I am 
not wholly to blame for your unhappy predica- 
ment,” her voice dropped to seriousness. 

“Now, Bobbie,” and the good-natured little 
Sally smiled through, “never forget that you 
really made it possible for me to come here, and 
that you ” 

“Now, that’s enough. Kitten. If you start go- 
ing back we shall find ourselves in each other’s 
arms with awfully red eyes — first thing you 
know. I still think the miracle will save you, but 
poor me!” and she affected a most juvenile boo- 
hoo. “I am surely doomed.” 

“Why don’t you try it, Bobbie? You might 
get through—^ — ” 

“Not in a thousand years. And suppose I did, 
where would it land me?” 

“In your proper place, in class, of course.” 

“And have every one know — I couldn’t, Kit- 
ten. I talk bravely, but I’m a rank coward at 
heart. There, the boxes are tied, I hope to your 


JUNIOR 


263 


satisfaction, and it’s sweet of you to do the tags. 
No one would be able to read the addresses if I 
wrote them. Oh, me, oh, my! somehow today 
reminds me of old Polly Jenkins’ funeral. Her 
abandoned bedroom looked just about like this,” 
surveying the disorder of the little room under 
the eaves. 

“Well, you run along and attend to the out- 
side errands; I must hide the evidences of our 
flight,” said Sally, with something between a 
laugh and a sigh. “You may pay all my bills, 
just say we want to settle things so we can run 
off home when the holiday is proclaimed, then, if 
you don’t mind, just hand this music to Dolly 
Lloyd.” 

“Couldn’t I kiss a few of the girls for you so 
as to save time later?” asked Bobbie in naive 
sarcasm. “I am so sentimental today I could 
hug the very old trees, I do believe. All right, 
little sister. I’ll go out and do the financial 
chores, but my head and my heart are still at the 
dance,” and she hummed herself out with a feeble 
dance step — ^to do the aforesaid chores. 

Left alone the blonde little freshman dropped 
her hands in her lap and ceased her nervous ac- 
tivity. 

“Really going!” she kept thinking, “and I 


264 


JANE ALLEN: 


thought the half year would be endless in its 
days and hours!” A newly painted calendar — 
sample just finished by Nellie Saunders and 
offered as a model for Christmas gifts — focused 
the girl’s attention. How dainty, yet how 
rugged the deft bit of water color! Trees and 
landscape all melting into that big flourish “W” 
for Wellington! It seemed like that; everything 
attractive just now was blended into the college 
opportunities, and Sally was about to turn her 
back on them, for what? 

The housemaid tapped at her door and an- 
nounced a caller. Hurriedly gathering up trifles 
to put the room in a semblance of order, she hur- 
ried down to the reception room, there to con- 
front Dolorez Vincez! 

“Oh, good morning,” said Sally, trying to 
cover her surprise. “Bobbie has just gone out.” 

“I met her,” replied the visitor, without re- 
turning the salutation. “But I would like a few 
words with you — if we could be alone.” 

Sally glanced about at the open doors and con- 
tinually flapping draperies: whatever Dol Vin 
had to say could certainly not be said in that 
public room. A coat tree at the door held Sally’s 
tarn and Mackinaw. She got into these and sug- 
gested a walk outside. 


JUNIOR 


265 


There was no denying it, Dol Vin was a strik- 
ing looking girl, and even her flashy clothes 
could not altogether disguise her rather hand- 
some foreign type. Today she wore a big black 
velvet tarn jabbed rakishly on her black head, a 
flame colored coat that buttoned around her tight 
as a toboggan ulster, and only the deep olive tint 
of her face in any way withheld the eye from a 
criticism of ‘‘too much color.” Today Dol’s 
cheeks were not tinted, and the way her deep set 
black eyes flashed, further told how angry she 
was, and how reckless. 

Scarcely had the girls from Lenox gone far 
enough to be out of hearing than she started 
in on helpless little Sally. 

“What are you two thinking of?” she de- 
manded angrily. “Do you think you can kick 
out and leave me without warning? Don’t you 
know how short I am ” 

“Miss Vincez,” interrupted Sally, “I don’t 
see what possible claim you have on either of us. 
The fact is we both feel you have very much 
overworked your alleged claim as it is.” 

“Oh, you do!” and she gripped Sally’s arm 
viciously. “Well, I’ll just tell you, sissy, I fixed 
it so you both could get in here.” (Sally pried 
Jier arm loose and kept at a safe distance.) “I 


266 


JANE ALLEN: 


helped you along, played all your tricks ” 

“Stop, please,” demanded Sally indignantly. 
“You know perfectly well it was against any 
wish of ours that you brought that crazy creature 
in here to frighten the girls sick in the name of 
sport, hazing,” declared Sally, her voice rising at 
each word. “And then, you turned the same 
foolish creature loose to frighten all the other 
children who might hear her wild voice. How 
can you dare say to me that such a trick was ever 
countenanced by us?” 

“Oh, my, really!” sneered the foreigner. 
“How we have grown! Please don’t bite me 
with your sharp tongue. As you say, yes, I did 
turn her loose, and do you know that now she 
has been sent away? Put in a hospital! Bah! 
It is in an asylum for the crazy” (Dol was very 
foreign now), “where the state, this great big 
powerful state, shall take all that poor harmless 
woman’s money! Could I not allow her to live 
a little when she paid me? But they will kill her 
and get paid for the murder! That’s the way 
they treat the poor crazy folks in their big stone 
prisons!” she alleged angrily. 

“She has been declared insane?” 

“Declared insane!” she mocked. “You call it 
that? Yes, I call it kidnapped, and poor old 


JUNIOR 


267 


Zola was so harmless if they would but let her 
scream and play at acting.” 

Sally was dumbfounded. The woman who 
had played ghost was really a lunatic, and this 
unprincipled adventuress had dared allow her 
to get into a place like Lenox, and to go about 
the countryside without restraint! Sally felt 
almost sick at the thought, and having walked 
the full length of the hedge-rows she attempted 
to end the unpleasant interview. 

‘Tf you will excuse me ” she began feebly. 

“But I shall not,” almost shouted the angry 
South American. ‘T know what this place can 
do! I know how your spiteful Jane Allen and 
her chums got me out ” 

“Stop!” cried Sally sharply. “Jane Allen is 
my friend, and I will not hear her spoken of in 
that manner.” 

“Your friend!” and she sneered like some ani- 
mal snorting. “She may make of you a cat’s 
paw to play at her feet, but she shall never be 
your friend. If she just knows what you 


But Sally turned and deliberately fled from 
her persecutor. She could no longer stand the 
tirade, and nothing that she seemed able to do 
or say had any softening effect upon the angry 


268 


JANE ALLEN: 


young woman. Suppose she did meet some of 
the girls and attempt to tell what she knew of 
Sally’s secret? Would anyone stand by and 
listen? Was not this expelled pupil actually 
trespassing even to be upon Wellington 
grounds? 

It was getting close to the noon hour and 
studies were to be resumed after the luncheon 
period. Students who had taken advantage of 
the morning recess to be out at some favorite 
sports were now returning in flocks, and Sally 
quickened her steps to reach Lenox before the 
rush of late comers. She turned just once to see 
if Dolorez was going through the grounds to 
leave at the opposite gate, but the blazing red 
coat was not in sight. 

“She probably knows some other way of leav- 
ing,” thought Sally, recalling the uncanny 
knowledge of the campus secrets that had been 
responsible for the entrance of the eccentric 
Madam Z . 

In the hall Sally met a very much excited 
Bobbie. “Oh, did she eat you up? Or put horns 
on you? Or turn you into a goat?” she began. 
It happened that the hallway was clear just 
then. “Wasn’t she furious? I am so glad I es- 
caped! Come in and tell me all about it.” 


JUNIOR 


269 


“Not much to tell,” replied Sally, “except that 
I just turned on her and defied her. I felt the 
time had passed for intimidation, and I told her 
so.” 

“Good for you. Kitten,” and Bobbie demon- 
strated her approval. “I always knew your 
spunk was just smoldering, ready to burst into 
fiame at the right moment. Now, I saw the 
cause of DoFs disquietude. Her shop is closed, 
shut up tight, barred windows and a cute little 
white sign tacked right under the former artistic 
door. The sign reads ‘To Let’ and it is easy to 
imagine the crepe hanging from the knocker.” 

“She told me she lost a lot — ^by the arrest of 
Madam Z, and do you know, Bobbie, that 
woman was a real lunatic?” 

“Of course I know it. Didn’t I ride horseback 
with her? But they are all gone now and as the 
poet says: ‘Good riddance.’ Come along. Kit- 
ten, and eat grub. That’s a function I decline to 
omit, Dol Vin or any other threat hanging over 
my poor bobbed head. Come on, dear, cheer up ! 
The worst is yet to come!” 

“Wait a minute, please do, Bobbie. I just 
can’t think straight. You know every afternoon 
^ow there is an open forum or a class meeting 


270 


JANE ALLEN: 


and I wish we could go before we run into a fur- 
ther danger,” 

“Oh, no, dearie, don’t think of that,” cheered 
Bobbie, strangely irrepressible ever since the big 
dance. “You can’t tell yet what may happen. 
Stay on the burning deck until the fog horn 
blows, then take to the life-boats, is my plan of 
action. I hope we have a substantial meal right 
now, for paying up bills and collecting receipts is 
painfully appetising. Come on, dear, and smile 
while the smiling is good.” 

“But just suppose Jane or Judy should drop 
in on us this afternoon and see the things packed 
up?” 

“Tell them I am eloping, break the news 
gently and blame it on me. I feel as if I could 
stand for any monumental conspiracy that was 
ever conspired. I am that experienced in in- 
trigue. Perhaps I’ll apply for a government 
position in the diplomatic corps. I believe I 
could carry it off beautifully, brass buttons, 
plumes and all. There’s Dolly. Just look at her 
hair! Like an escaped watch spring.” 

“Did you meet any little fairy in your walk? 
Some one who has promised immunity? You 
seem tragically jolly?” 

“No, not a fairy, nor yet a ghost. This is just 


JUNIOR 


271 


my natural reaction. And while I think of it, 
Kit,” she let the door slam violently, ‘‘don’t for- 
get I have not reformed. I positively refuse to 
be any better than I ever was ; I have simply de- 
veloped, and outgrown the antagonistic influence 
of some defunct ancestors. Oh, how good it all 
seems here today? I believe I am glad Dol came 
and went and took her particular influence with 
her. Wasn’t it lucky I had called in my head 
and that she didn’t leave me with one side done 
and one side undone? Wonder if we will notice 
any painfully deserted blondes in her wake?” 

It might be the reaction, but Sally could not 
help wondering why Bobbie was in such high 
spirits. Then she recalled the old saying, “Too 
much joy is sorrowful,” and hoped her chum’s 
joy would not be thus rudely transformed. 

Judith and Jane were waiting for them at the 
dining hall door. 

“Truants,” said Jane, “where have you been? 
We have been planning to send a bell boy after 
you. My famous dad has just written he is 
coming through New York and wants to take me 
and my stepsister home with me. You know 
who he thinks bears that relationship to me, of 
course?” 

They knew she referred to the scholarship girl, 


272 


JANE ALLEN: JUNIOR 


and Sally looked dumb while Shirley looked 
startled. 

“Oh, that would be lovely,” said Shirley with 
marked evasion, “but ” 

“My dad never entertains a but,” said Jane, 
“so I hope, Bobbie, you will hurry up your plans 
to come out and ride a real horse on a real ranch 
in Montana. Won’t she look stunning on a 
bronco, Sally?” 

But the invitation, alluring as it was, did not 
seem to add zest to the appetite of Bobbie. It 
had simply swept her off her trustworthy feet, 
and Sally seemed little better. Another corner 
to escape from! 


CHAPTER XXVI 


A SURPRISE IN RECORDS 

H olidays, holidays! The air was full 
of them, and it seemed all the girls in 
Jane’s group were to spend the big 
Christmas event away from Wellington. 

J ane’s letter from her father, that which sug- 
gested she bring “the little country girl” back to 
Montana with her for the holidays, seemed like 
an answer to her own secret wish. She wanted 
to bring Bobbie home with her, but very much 
preferred the invitation would come from head- 
quarters. Jane, like Bobbie, did not wish to 
appear too ingratiating, also she did not want to 
make the girl feel she was in any way patronizing 
her. 

The bulletin boards in all “dorms” bore the 
notice of special assembly in the study hall, and 
thither the students were now progressing. 

“This is where we get all that is coming to us,” 
said Bobbie more literally than elegantly. “I 
believe the idea is, we are to know before we 
leave, where we will be put when we come back.” 
(273 


274 


JANE ALLEN: 


She was talking to Sally as they walked out from 
Lenox. 

“Yes, and I wish, Bobbie, we might have es- 
caped it. Think of hearing all the reports read 
and not being able to take up our exams?” 

“If only we didn’t have to take them I would 
feel better. Of course you are safe,” said Bobbie 
ruefully. 

“Perhaps it is better to have this one last 
spasm of courage,” replied Sally, although her 
whimsical expression did not register anything 
“better”; it bespoke the condition as “worse.” 

The assembly was well filled up when the two 
conspiring freshmen took their places as near 
the door as seats could be found. The biting 
wintry air permeated the big auditorium, and 
when the restless shuffling of feet had finally 
come down to a murmur of soft sporadic shift- 
ings — some girls never could keep their feet still 
— then the dean. Miss Rutledge, made her an- 
nual announcement. 

No girl was ever dropped from Wellington 
without having first received due warning, she 
told the classes ; also she announced that ratings 
given at this time would afford students oppor- 
tunity to make the next half year’s plans while 
at home with their families. 


JUNIOR 


275 


It is easy to guess that many hearts fluttered 
wildly in anxious anticipation during this trying 
moment. But Wellington was always fair, and 
no one would be denied a chance to “pull up” if 
native ability seemed equal to the trial. 

The seniors, almost all self-reliant and assured 
of their standing, had little to speculate upon, 
and their report was quickly disposed of. In the 
juniors were many whose standing held interest, 
but almost all got off favorably. Ted Guthrie 
had worked off “conditions,” as had Inez and 
J anet, one in math and the other in Greek, but 
the first half year was pronounced satisfactory 
for almost all the students whose names have 
figured in this little tale. Jane and Judith were 
always counted among the lucky number. 

It was in the freshmen’s ranks that things 
were sure to happen. Here were girls just try- 
ing out college ; some sure to be found unsuitable 
for pursuing the higher branches of education, 
others evidently capable as to intellect but 
poorly prepared, and were thus handicapped 
with too heavy a burden of “conditions.” Again 
there were those who had drifted through 
“High” without much effort, and relying on this 
pace had mistaken the very serious work of col- 


276 


JANE ALLEN: 


lege for that of the rather indifferent prepara- 
tory work. 

Much of this explanation was embodied in 
Miss Rutledge’s statement to the assembled 
pupils. 

“There is also this to be considered,” she said. 
“Some pupils show remarkable aptitude in cer- 
tain studies, and when this is found in the exact 
science of mathematics we have reason to feel 
that the student will eventually make up other 
deficiencies, and so keep up with her class.” 

“That’s for you,” whispered Sally to Bobbie 
with a very broad nudge, but Bobbie’s eyes an- 
swered with that look pet animals throw out 
when in doubt of a master’s exact meaning. 

Then, there were cited the highest averages, 
and the first name called was that of Miss Sarah 
Howland! As Miss Rutledge read the name she 
looked up from her reports. 

“I feel I should add,” she said gently, “that 
Miss Howland has covered more than the work 
required, and has the peculiarly well balanced 
intellect that seems to feed from one subject to 
another. I must congratulate Miss Howland 
upon her splendid record as a first-year student.” 

Jane Allen’s hands led the applause that fol- 
lowed this, b\it it was not ended until the ranks 


JUNIOR 


277 


of the freshmen had paid ample tribute to their 
star member. 

Sally was dreadfully embarrassed. She shoot 
her head in continual protest, but her objection 
had only the effect of increasing the acclamation. 
Finally the dean proceeded. 

Bobbie was all but biting her nails in sheer 
nervousness. After all, this had required an 
amount of coitrage. Her nails pressed into her 
palms fiercely. Perhaps it would have been 
simpler to have avoided the final reckoning? 
The girls’ names being read gave to her tingling 
ears merely a blurred murmur. Yes, Dolly 
Lloyd would pass: and there was Margie Win- 
ters — Margie was a star in English. Next 

“Miss Shirley Duncan,” came the dean’s voice, 
and then she paused. 

“Here is a student who has shown exceptional 
work in mathematics,” she continued, “and while 
her preparation for college has been undoubtedly 
faulty, her teachers recommend that she continue 
her work and apply herself with special tutors 
for those studies in which she has been especially 
deficient.” 

Shirley was all but gasping, when again from 
Jane Allen’s seat came the approval of applause. 

“She made it,” the girls were whispering. “I 


278 


JANE ALLEN: 


always knew she was a wizard at math,” insisted 
Nellie Saunders. 

“Bobbie is perfectly all right,” declared the 
wise little Margie Winters. “It was all on ac- 
count of her country ideas ” 

“Hush,” whispered Dolly Lloyd. “We are all 
more or less from the country. Do you want to 
claim the Grand Central Station?” 

This set Margie back in her seat — and pres- 
ently all the “f reshies” had been given their 
ratings. A few very sharp warnings were ad- 
ministered, and that a great deal of cram- 
ming would have to be done by some before the 
mid-year exams, to take place early in January, 
was made especially plain by the dean. No one 
would be dropped without warning, but the 
standards of Wellington. would have to be main- 
tained, she concluded. 

Little reader, if you expect to get to college 
begin your “cramming” now in high school, and 
let each day’s record be such as will surely make 
a satisfactory total in preparation. If more stu- 
dents could only realize this in timel 

Assembly was dismissed and the girls sur- 
rounded Bobbie and Sally. Jane and Judith 
seemed personally responsible for these two 
freshmen, and no one could discount the gleam 


JUNIOR 


279 


in Jane’s eyes when she squeezed Bobbie’s 
clammy hand. 

“Why so — frightened?” she demanded. “Isn’t 
it just wonderful to know you couldn’t break 
away even though you tried so flagrantly?” 
There was a twinkle thrown in with this, and 
J ane next piled compliments on Sally. 

Never were there two “satisfactory” students 
so manifestly unhappy. No one could miss the 
nervous manner Sally tried so hard to hide, nor 
yet the heightened color in Bobbie’s cheeks when 
she flatly refused to comment on the surprise, 

“Queer,” observed Dolly Lloyd. “If I turned 
out satisfactory when I just waited for my little 
return home notice, it seems to me I would at 
least emit a smile.” 

Freed from the scrutiny of their companions 
at last, Sally and Bobbie bolted for Lenox. It 
had been a trying ordeal and both felt its effects 
too keenly to throw it off at once. 

“It’s over,” eulogized Bobbie, slamming down 
her hat on Sally’s camp chair and promptly sit- 
ting on it. 

“Yes, and you ought to be the happiest girl in 
all Wellington,” declared Sally, standing limp 
before the dresser that reflected a sad little face 
unobserved. 


28 o 


JANE ALLEN: 


“I ought to be happy!” repeated Bobbie. 
“How about you? Ted knew his guess when he 
called you King Pin of the Freshies. Sallylun, 
why don’t you try to finish? Couldn’t I help 
you?” 

“You know the conditions, Bob? We went 

into this together and together we quit ” said 

Sally, rather crudely for her. 

“It’s a shame,” grumbled Bobbie. “I just 
love it all now.” 

“But you can remain! Even your conditions 
are assured.” 

“And as you said we went in together, etc.,” 
said Bobbie. 

Jane Allen was at the door before they heard 
her step. 

“Now,” she called out in announcement of her 
presence, “Bobbie, you have no excuse. Even 
dad will be delighted, but he couldn’t feel as I 
do about it. Bobbie, I’m just proud of you!” 

The dry lips moved but did not answer. 

“Why don’t you trust me?” asked Jane flatly. 
“I know you are planning something, of course.” 

“Oh, we do trust you, indeed,” declared Sally 
with quivering lips, “and we both are too grate- 
ful to frame words in expression.” 

“But you are not quite — confidential,” pressed 


JUNIOR 


281 


Jane. Her eye was checking up the hat boxes 
and other evidences of “house cleaning” scat- 
tered around. 

They had positively decided to write her a full 
explanation to be delivered after they left. This 
was finally agreed upon as the one practical 
plan and neither would attempt to violate it now. 
But this moment, with Jane’s affectionate man- 
ner as a lure, was indeed a strong temptation! 
What might have happened did not happen, 
however, for a team of girls burst in at that very 
minute and put an abrupt end to the developing 
confidences. 

They descended upon the serious ones with 
such exhilaration that even the neatly tied-up 
boxes were threatened with violence. 

“We are going to give a ‘Dingus’ tonight,” 
shouted Betty, “and you are not going to spoil 
it as you did our ghost party. Sally, this time 
you two will be left off the committee, then per- 
haps we can have our fun without your inter- 
ference. Not that we wouldn’t love to have 
you,” she hastened to temporize, “but we know 
how you do duck our sports, and this time we are 
bound to put one through. We merely dropped 
in to invite you, and if you are not on hand be 
warned!” 


282 


JANE ALLEN: 


“Be warned that we will drag you from your 
lair!” threatened Nellie Saunders. “This is go- 
ing to be one grand final rally, and we want 
above all the two famous members of the clan.” 

“You may wear your kilts and whitewash 
brushes,” conceded Nellie. 

“You should wear a laurel crown, Sally. I 
suppose next half you will jump right in junior 
and skip us poor little sophs, at least I hope we’ll 
be sophs,” said Margie Winters. 

Jane managed to hide her impatience, but she 
was disappointed. She had expected to draw out 
the confidence of Sally and Bobbie, realizing she 
might help them if she but understood the mys- 
terious predicament. But there was no chance 
of further pressing that point, so she turned and 
fied, to leave the freshies to their own particular 
little affairs. 

Judith was anxiously waiting to hear the out- 
come of her visit, as it had been planned between 
them. 

“No wiser than when I left you,” confessed 
Jane. “Whatever those two youngsters are up 
to I can’t sense it nor get them to own up. But, 
Judy, just keep a sharp watch out. If they run 
off it shall be our joyful ju-ty to run them back. 
Some of the old Dol Vin nonsense is still brew- 


JUNIOR 


283 


ing in their childish brains I fear, and it behooves 
us to eliminate it.” 

“But why should they want to go now?” 
puzzled Judith. 

“I have admitted I cannot even guess,” replied 
Jane, “but whatever it is it began long ago and it 
just ripened now. Keep a watch on Lenox, that 
is all I can advise. I hardly know now which 
of the two fascinating little creatures I am most 
in love with. Sally is as dear as ever, and Bobbie 
more — compelling. If I had a brother I should 
imagine him just about as deliciously rebellious 
as Bobbie.” 

Which was saying a good deal for Bobbie 
when it came from Jane. 

“Do you really think they will attempt to 
run away?” queried Judith, deeply perplexed. 

“There is every evidence of it.” 

“After everything turning out so beautiful- 
ly ” 

“That’s just it. There is some secret behind 
if all,” reasoned Jane. “I am just as much in 
the dark as ever.” 

“Didn’t you — couldn’t you ask them outright 
Janie? How dreadful if they should spoil 
everything, by acting so horrid! To run away!” 

“But we must not allow them to do so,” ar- 


284 


JANE ALLEN: 


gued Jane. “Surely now that we are both 
warned, we ought to be able to forestall any such 
attempt.” 

“You know now how hard it is to keep track 
of things over at Lenox,” faltered Judith. “Not 
that I wouldn’t be willing to sit up nights to 
watch those babes, but even at that they could 
slip off,” she reasoned. 

“The freshies are having an affair tonight, 
that will mean we must be doubly watchful dur- 
ing the excitement.” 

“Why not tell some of the other girls, and get 
them to help us?” 

“I should hate to do that,” replied Jane. 
“After all we have only suspicion ; it would never 
do to start a story like that.” 

“I suppose you are right,” sighed Judith, “but 
if I thought Dol Vin ” 

“There is nothing you can’t think about Dol 
Vin, if that helps you any. But just the same, 
she still acts the adroit meddler. When I recall 
how she tried all last year to spoil our time here 
— ^yours and mine — and now when I see she is 

making tools of these two innocents ” Jane 

paused from sheer indignation. 

“I don’t believe the girl is fully civilized,” 
blurted out Judith. 


JUNIOR 


285 


“Of course she isn’t, if you mean by ‘civilized’ 
being human and kind and American. I would 
rather be hot headed and fiery, and have all the 
other bad traits I plead guilty of, than to be as 
smart and business-like as she is, but have no 
heart. I honestly believe Dol Vin has a human 
motor in place of a flesh and blood heart.” Jane 
was getting excited now, and she paced up and 
down quite like a regular stage person. 

“My poor noodle just thumps with the think- 
ing,” confessed Judith. “Of course I am not 
willing to take the responsibility of policing 
Lenox Hall all night Jane. There must be some 
other way.” 

“I positively decline, Judy, to tell the office 
or ask for official help. That would be too silly 
if we have made a mistake,” decided Jane fall- 
ing into a convenient seat. 

Judith did not speak directly. She was loath 
to cross Jane further, yet unwilling to shoulder 
this rather serious responsibility. 

“Why not invite both Bobbie and Sally over 
here and have them remain all night?” she sug- 
gested. “That would be a treat for the ” 

“You forget the Lenox girls are having a 
party,” Jane interrupted. 


286 


JANE ALLEN: JUNIOR 


“Then let us break in on the party,” followed 
Judith quickly. 

“I agree, Judy, we must keep as close to them 
for a day at least, as it is possible to do without 
actually locking them up. Dear me, Jude! 
Look at the time! And IVe got to get in some 
gym practice. My joints are as stiff as sticks, 
and I had congested headaches just from lazi- 
ness. Coming to the gym?” 

“No, not today. My head aches from activity. 
You have me all swirled up. Don’t mind if I 
take a rest, do you? Suppose we have to go on 
picket duty?” 

Jane laughed, defying her fears for Sally and 
Bobbie. 

“When I have anything important to do I 
must be alert,” explained Jane. “Go to sleep if 
you like Judy, but be ready if you hear me 
whistle. It may be a race between the freshies 
and juniors you know.” 

“Oh — ^hum!” groaned Judith as Jane raced 
off. 


CHAPTER XXVII 


THE REAL STORY 

I T was just before six o’clock that same eve- 
ning when Dolly Lloyd burst into the gym 
where Jane was exercising. 

“They’re gone!” she exclaimed. “Sally and 
Bobbie have left Lenox, and are rushing to get 
the six-thirty train. Why do you suppose they 
have sneaked off like that?” 

“.Gone? Are you sure?” asked Jane. 

“Positive, we have a note and ” 

But Jane heard no more. Snatching up her 
sweater, she jabbed her arms into it as she ran, 
and hardly stopped until she hammered on the 
door of the stable where her horse. Firefly, with 
others were kept. 

Jim, the stable-boy, answered immediately, 
but seemed unable to comprehend the unseemly 
haste, as Jane dashed in, loosened the headstall 
of her intelligent mount, led him to the path and 
then sprang up bareback to overtake the runa- 
ways. 


287 


288 


JANE ALLEN: 


Jim stood speechless. That a student should 
romp off like that in bloomers too — and without 
a hat! 

And how she was a-going it! 

Her hair flew out in a cloud about her head, 
while Firefly, who was plainly wildly excited at 
his unexpected caper, just did as Jane told him 
without the slightest regard for lack of bridle or 
saddle. Wasn’t he from Montana and didn’t his 
mistress train him to go as she chose without 
foolish restrictions? Students along the way 
looked in amazement at the racing girl, but being 
Jane Allen some allowance was made for the 
caprice. 

At the cedars a shrill train whistle warned 
Jane she had but a few seconds more to make the 
little Bingham station, and she promptly im- 
parted the same message to Firefly. 

“We’ll make it, boy,” she whispered. “Take 

Janie to the station, careful — careful ” in 

that droning, even voice a horse always knows 
how to interpret. 

There, she touched the back platform, told her 
horse to wait, and threw his strap over the livery 
post; then she hurried to the front to find her 
freshmen. 


JUNIOR 


289 


There they were! Bags in hand, standing 
now as the train was pulling in. 

Jane saw them some seconds before they 
espied her, and quick as a flash she had a hand on 
each of the others. 

“Girls,” she called, “drop those bags. Where 
are you going?” 

Sally dropped her bag from sheer surprise, but 
Bobbie had a flrmer grip. 

“Oh, please. Miss Allen,” begged Bobbie tear- 
fully, “don’t detain us, we must go. This is our 
train.” 

“If you go you must take me with you — and 
this way,” she included her gym togs in the state- 
ment. “Just be reasonable and rational. There, 
let the train go” (it was going). “There are 
others. But you just come over to that bench 
and tell me. What does all this mean?” There 
was no time for recrimination. The story so long 
bound up in the hearts of these two girls sprung 
freely to their lips. 

“You will hate us both. Miss Allen,” stumbled 
Sally. “But we never meant to deceive you for 
so long a time.” 

“We were silly geese,” retorted the impetuous 
Bobbie, “and I suppose now, outside of Welling- 
ton grounds, we may as well try- — to confess. 


290 


JANE ALLEN: 


We have both deceived you! There is Shirley 
Duncan and I am Sally Howland.” 

“What!” gasped Jane, unable to understand 
the shifting of names from one to the other. 

“I never won your father’s scholarship,” went 
on Bobbie, her voice trailing evenly over every 
incriminating word. “Shirley won it and ” 

“I sold it to her,” sobbed the other, eager to 
have done with the hateful admission. 

“Sold it?” 

“Yes, there was no other way. Ted — ^my 
brother Ted — had to have two hundred dollars 
to get back to Yorktown, and everything seemed 
gone when uncle died. I had won the scholar- 
ship, to come to Wellington, but I couldn’t leave 
Ted stranded in his junior year,” choked the 
little freshman. 

“That was it!” exclaimed Jane, leading the 
girls away from the tracks, now cleared of the 
New York express, and guiding them to the 
back of the station where Firefly waited proudly. 
What a relief! 

“You rode — ^that way?” gasped Bobbie. 
“Without a saddle?” 

“Why certainly. It was the best gallop I’ve 
had in months. Now, naughty girls, wait. Sit 
down. I’m too excited to stand up. You” (to 


JUNIOR 


291 


Sally) “are Shirley Duncan, and you’’ (to 
Bobbie) “are Sally Howland?” 

“Yes,” replied both miserably. 

Then she, whom we must know as the real 
Shirley, spoke. 

“I know it must seem despicable. Miss Allen, 
but there was dear Ted, so disappointed, and he 
was such a splendid student. I could come here, 
but he simply had to have that two hundred dol- 
lars to go back to Yorktown.” The voice took 
courage with its tale of loyalty. 

“And you are simply a wonderful little girl 
to have managed it all,” declared Jane, showing 
not a single trace of resentment. “It is actually 
fascinating — ^to think you actually exchanged 
identities !” 

“But I had no such laudable excuse,” moaned 
Bobbie. “My folks just wanted me to go to col- 
lege — any old college in any old way — and we 
always thought dad’s good honest money would 
pave the way. But it didn’t, and I never could 
pass the exams, so I simply fell into this from 
sheer vanity.” 

“That is not so,” expostulated the new Shir- 
ley. “Bobbie would never have dreamed such a 
thing if Dol Vin did not happen along with her 


292 


SANE ALLEN: 


wonderful plan. You may imagine she was the 
real brains — of the plot.” 

‘‘Dol Vin ” 

“Yes, she taught — a summer g3nn class at our 
place,” explained Bobbie, “and when she heard 
my wail about not being able to get into college 
she offered the scheme. At first it did seem ab- 
horrent, but she glossed it over so ” 

“And obtained such a generous commis- 
sion ” put in the real Shirley. 

“Then you see. Kitten here was passed right 
in on her second exams, while I sailed in on the 
exa-ms she took for the scholarship,” confessed 
Bobbie, digging her heels in the cinder path reck- 
lessly. 

“And you both thought this an unpardonable 
offense?” 

“Certainly, we knew every moment we were 
both hypocrites,” blurted Bobbie. “Kitten has 
been fairly blistering under the stigma.” 

“The train is gone,” said Shirley the original. 
“And, Miss' Allen, you are not dressed for this. 
We will have to go back, I suppose.” 

Jane had been thinking quickly, in fact her 
brain had been fairly churning with the new turn 
in events. She jumped from the bench and con- 
fronted the downcast freshmen. 


JUNIOR 


293 


“I have it!” she exclaimed. “It is just perfect. 
Here you two girls both came in on dad’s schol- 
arship, have both made good and are both now 
eligible to finish the course. Don’t you see how 
magically it has all turned out?” 

“We don’t,” admitted Bobbie. 

“That’s because you don’t know how generous 
Deanie Rutledge can be. We will go right back 
and tell her the whole thing and she will, I am 
positive, think the matter one inspired by the 
noble effort you made” (to Shirley) “to keep 
your brother in college. Bobbie, you did want to 
come to college, that is always a laudable ambi- 
tion, and think of the thousands who fail every 
year?” 

“But they don’t come,” persisted the still 
doubting Bobbie. 

“But you did. And if you were a little rebel 
at first, doesn’t that explain it? Your prepara- 
tion was all wrong — ^you heard Deanie say so. 
Come on, now. I’ll walk and let you lead Firefly, 
Bobbie. I know it will be a treat to you to even 
lead him. Sorry you can’t ride in that tight 
skirt.” 

“Wait a minute,” demanded Bobbie, stopping 
short, “do you mean to say. Miss Allen ” 

“Jane ” 


294 


JINE ALLEN: 


‘‘All right/’ with a smile. “Do you mean to 
say, Jane, that the dean would ever understand 
and condone all this?” 

“What are deans for?” asked J ane, the miracle 
worker. “I’m just wild over the whole thing and 
daddy will want to adopt you both. It is simply 
thrilling! You have doubled the value of the 
scholarship.” 

“But if we did come back and the girls knew 
it? Our change of names?” queried the real 
Shirley, apprehensively. 

“Don’t you see how simple it is? We will just 
explain that you exchanged identities to try out 
how one girl could work on another girl’s repu- 
tation. That you both intended to go back to 
your real selves at the half year ” 

“So we did,” declared Bobbie. “Shirley was 
to be transferred to Breslin and I expected to — 
withdraw.” 

“But you don’t want to?” 

“No,” hesitating, “but I can’t see ” 

“I can. The whole thing is a wonderful story 
and when we give the girls the one fact, that you 
simply exchanged places for a lark, and then 
didn’t know how to get out of it, that will be 
enough for them. Come along there. Firefly, 
meet my two college chums. And now, Bobbie, 


JUNIOR 


295 


talk to him once in a while, so he will remember 
you when you dash over the hills of Montana.’* 

“Sort of — fairy story,” breathed Shirley, a 
little tragically, 

“And Teddy is your brother?” asked Jane. 
“However did he keep the lark up at the dance?” 

“He thought it was only a lark,” replied his 
sister. 

“And so it was,” suddenly declared Bobbie. 
“Jane Allen has made it so and I’m for a full 
A.B. course at old Wellington! Let gossips do 
their worst,” and she capered ahead to the play- 
ful clip-clap of Firefly, every step indicating the 
relief she was experiencing. 

“If Bobbie feels that way I am sure I should 
not hold out,” relented Shirley. “In fact, both 
Ted and I have our own incomes now. We only 
had to wait for an adjustment, but at the time 
we were simply panic-stricken. I wanted to pay 
Bobbie back last month, but have not succeeded 
in getting her to take the money as yet.” 

“I think it is all perfectly delicious!” declared 
Jane. “Won’t Judy and Dozia just howl? Of 
course no one need know about the loan. That is 
purely a personal matter.” (More miracles.) 

“Jane,” called back Bobbie, “don’t you re- 
member how you used to question that name 


2g6 


JANE ALLEN: 


Shirley? Didn’t seem to think it fitted me. 
Well, you see how you were right. I should have 
been plain old-fashioned country Sarah.” 

“Nevertheless,” insisted Jane, “you have 
proven how well you can act. Take care we don’t 
cast you for a leading role in some of our mas- 
querades !” 

They turned into the campus again, happy in 
their new-found security, for what Jane under- 
took she was sure to accomplish, and even this 
complication melted away into a fascinating 
story under her skillful guidance. 

“Hurry! Hurry!” she prompted, “we must 
account for this little race. There’s Judy. Run 
on ahead and tell anyone you meet — ^tell them 
we’re coming,” she ended foolishly to Bobbie. 
“Your turn to think.” 

“Tell them we had a race, and with a good 
handicap. Kitten won,” suggested Bobbie, re- 
sponding quickly to Jane’s suggestion. 

“But what about all our things? Our hats 
and coats?” demurred the real Shirley. 

“They’ll be too interested to notice that de- 
tail,” said Jane. “I’m so happy, happy, happy! 
Run along Firefly — ^there’s Jim waiting. Now, 
come girls, after we deliver Firefly to his keeper 
we are going right up to the hall — ^Judy! Judy!” 


JUNIOR 


297 


she broke off, for Judith evidently had not seen 
them come in the gate. ‘‘Over here Judy!” she 
shouted again, and this time Judy responded. 

She rushed up to the culprits and likewise con- 
fronted Jane. 

“Don’t you three dare to deceive me!” she 
stormed with good nature sufficient to hide the 
girl’s evident embarassment. “Where have you 
been and what have you been doing?” 

“I wouldn’t attempt to deceive you Judith,” 
said Bobbie bravely, “we were running away!” 

“Why?” the question was put seriously. 

“Because we have both been deceiving you all, 
and no matter how generous you two friends try 
to be, I am at least going to set that matter 
straight before the whole college. I am Sarah 
Howland and this is Shirley Duncan.” She 
placed her hand on little Shirley’s arm. 

Judith was dumfounded! They expected she 
would be, naturally, but she now stood there 
speechless. 

“Be a good sport Judy,” urged Jane, “and 
help us stage a real happy ending. Don’t you 
want to jump on Firefly and ride him over to 
the stable?” 

“I don’t. Why has Shirley become Bobbie?” 

Jane wanted to laugh, but Bobbie’s face was 


298 


JANE ALLEN: 


very serious, and Shirley’s lip was quivering. 
Jane released her horse and watched him canter 
over to the stable. 

“We’ll all be late for tea, but never mind,” 
she said. “Let us tell Judy all about it. She’ll 
die of curiosity if we don’t. Look at her poor 
face.” 

“Jane Allen if I knew a big secret I’d tell 
you,” declared the abused one. 

“Here’s a seat; there, now listen,” began Jane. 
“Shirley Duncan exchanged places on the schol- 
arship certificate with Sally Howland, that’s 
Bobbie, because Sally couldn’t get in otherwise, 
and Shirley ” 

“Needed the money,” confessed Shirley, in- 
sisting on having a part in the confession. 

“But it was for her brother Ted, you know,” 
interrupted Bobbie loyally. 

“Is that Teddy your brother? And Bobbie 
you blushed so when you danced with him, and 

I accused you ” It was Judith’s turn to talk 

quickly now, and she made good use of the op- 
portunity. 

Finally something like order was restored. 

“You must help us Judy ” pleaded Jane. 

“I insisted the girls should come right along and 
simply tell their story frankly to Deanie. You 


JUNIOR 


299 


know how splendidly she came to the rescue of 
our friends last year.” 

“You need not be afraid to tell her your story 
girls,” agreed Judith. “In fact I think she’ll 
he just tickled to death to have two such little 
Trojans in our midst. But what about the 
others?” 

“Oh, I don’t want to face it,” faltered Shirley 
nearly in tears. “Why can’t we withdraw and 
do as we planned, Bobbie?” 

“Because we won’t let you,” insisted Jane. 
“Just now you are hound to feel a little fright- 
ened, but if you could see it as I do; as Judy 
does,” she hurried to add. “I tell you girls the 
others will just want to carry you around on 
their shoulders, they’ll be so proud of you,” fin- 
ished Jane a little breathlessly. 

“Carry us around?” questioned Bobbie. “If 
you hadn’t caught us we would be making pic- 
tures of ourselves with our faces pressed to the 
damp window panes of that train you hear 
whistling now,” she declared, with a flash of her 
natural humor. “Kitten’s face wouldn’t be 
pretty either, if she puckered it that way.” 

Jane knew the battle was won, now that Bob- 
bie joked and smiled, so she jumped up quickly 
and urged them along. 


300 


JANE ALLEN: JUNIOR 


‘‘Come on everyone, there’s a light in the of- 
fice,” she said. “We will just have a few minutes 
to talk to Deanie.” 

The girls went back, and when the holiday 
finally came both freshmen were hailed as the 
particular friends of Miss Allen and were to 
spend their vacation at her father’s ranch in 
Montana. 

The next volume of this series will sustain 
Jane’s reputation for unmatched personality in 
her Wellington record as “Jane Allen: Senior.” 


THE END 


the:jane allen'college 

SERIES 


By EDITH BANCROFT 

\^mo. Illustrated. Beautiful cloth binding^ stamped in gold with 
cover inlay and jacket in colors 

Price per volume, $1.50 net 


This series is a decided departure from 
the stories usually written of life in the 
modern college for young women. They 
contain a deep and fascinating theme ^ which 
has to do with the inner struggle for growth. 
An authoritative account of the life of the 
college girl as it is lived today. 



JANE ALLEN OF THE SUB TEAM 

When Jane Allen left her beautiful Western home in Montana, 
sorely against her will, to go East, there to become a freshman 
at Wellington College, she was sure that she could never learn to 
endure the restrictions of college life. But she did. 

JANE ALLEN: RIGHT GUARD 

Jane Allen becomes a sophomore at Wellington College, but 
she has to face a severe trial that requires all her courage and char- 
acter. The result is a triumph for being faithful to an ideal. 

JANE ALLEN: CENTER 

Lovable Jane Allen as Junior experiences delightful days of work 
and play. Jane, and her chum, Judith, win leadership in class 
office, social and athletic circles of Sophs and Juniors. 

JANE ALLEN: JUNIOR 

Jane Allen's college experiences, as continued in “Jane Allen, 
Junior," afford the chance for a brilliant story. There is a rude, 
country girl, who forced her way into Wellin^on under false pre- 
tenses. An exchange of identity gives the plot unusual originality. 

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ICUPPLES & LEON COMPANY, Publishers 


New York 


THE PATSY CARROLL'SERIES 


By grace GORDON 


12mo. Illustrated, Beautiful cloth binding, stamped in gold with 
cover inlay and jacket in colors 


^Price per volume, $1.50 net 



This fascinating series is permeated with 
the vibrant atmosphere of the great out-’ 
doors. The vacations spent by Patsy Car~ 
roll and her chums, the girl Wayfarers, in 
the north, east, south and west of the won-- 
derland of our country, comprise a success 
sion of tales unsurpassed in plot and action. 


1 


PATSY CARROLL AT WILDERNESS LODGE 

Patsy Carroll succeeds in coaxing her father to lease one of the 
luxurious camps at Lake Placid, for the summer. Established at 
Wilderness Lodge, the Wayfarers, as they call themselves, find they 
are the center of a mystery which revolves about a missing will. 
How the girls solve the mystery makes a splendid story. 

PATSY CARROLL UNDER [SOUTHERN. SKIES 

Patsy Carroll and her three churns^ spend their Easter vacation 
in an old mansion in Florida. An exciting mystery develops. It is 
solved by a curious acrostic found by Patsy. This leads to very 
exciting and satisfactory results, making a capital story. 

PATSY CARROLL IN THE GOLDEN WEST 

The Wayfarers journey to the dream city of the Movie World 
in the Golden West, and there* become a oart of a famous film 
drama. 


PATSY CARROLL IN OLD NEW ENGLAND 

Set in the background of the Tercentenary of the landing of the 
Pilgrims, celebrated in the year 1920, the story of Patsy Carroll in 
Old New England offers a correct word picture of this historical 
event and into it is woven a fascinating tale of the adventures of 
the Wayfarers. 

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CUPPLES &, LEON COMPANY, Publishers 


New York 


The Dorothy Dale Series 

By MARGARET PENROSE 

Author of “The Motor Girls Series” 

12m5. Illustrated. Price per volume, $1.00 postpaid. 


Dorothy Dale is the daughter of an old 
Civil War veteran who is running a weekly 
newspaper in a small Eastern town. Hen 
sunny disposition, her fun-loving ways and 
her trials and triumphs make clean, inter- 
esting and fascinating reading. The Dorothy 
Dale Series Is one of the most popular series 
of books for girls ever published. 

Dorothy dale: a Girl of To-day 
Dorothy Dale at glenwood school 
Dorothy Dale’s great Secret 
Dorothy Dale and Her Chums 

\ 

Dorothy Dale’s Queer Holidays 
Dorothy Dale’s Camping days 
Dorothy Dale’s School Rivals 
DOROTHY Dale in the City 
Dorothy Dale’s Promise 
Dorothy Dale in the West 
Dorothy Dale’s Strange Discovery 
DOROTHY DALE’S ENGAGEMENT 



CUPPLES & LEON CO., Publishers, 


NEW YORK 


The Motor Girls Series 

By MARGARET PENROSE 
' Autlior of the highly successful “Dorothy Dale Series’* 

12md. Illustrated. Price per volume, $1.00 postpaid. 


Since the enormous success of our “Motor 
Boys Series,” by Clarence Young, we have 
been asked to get out a similar series for 
girls. No one is better equipped to furnish 
these tales than Mrs. Penrose, who, besides 
being an able writer, is an expert auto- 
mobilist. 

The Motor Girls 

or A Mystery of the Road 

The Motor Girls on a Tour 

or Keeping a Strange Promise 

The Motor Girls at Lookout Beach 

or In Quest of the Runaways 

The Motor Girls Through New England 

or Held by the Gypsies 

The Motor Girls on Cedar lake 

or The Hermit of Fern Island 

The Motor Girls on the Coast 

or The Waif from the Sea 

The Motor girls on crystal bay 

or The Secret of the Red Oar 

The Motor girls on Waters Blue 

or The Strange Cruise of the Tartar 

The Motor girls at Camp Surprise 

or The Cave in the Mountain 

The Motor Girls in the Mountains 

or The Gypsy Girl's Secret 



CUPPLES & LEON CO., Publishers, 


NEW YORK 


THE RUTH FIELDING SERIES 


By ALICE B. EMERSON 

12mo» Illustrated, Price per volume, 80 cents, postpaid 

Ruth Fielding was an orphan and came to live 
with her miserly uncle. Her adventures and 
travels make stories that will hold the interest 
of every reader, 

RUTH FIELDING OF THE RED MILL 

or Jasper Parloe's Secret 

RUTH FIELDING ATBRIARWOOD HALL 

or Solving the Campus Mystery 

RUTH FIELDING AT SNOW CAMP 

or Lost in the Backwoods 

RUTH FIELDING AT LIGHTHOUSE 
POINT 

or Nita, the Girl Castaway 

RUTH FIELDING AT SILVER RANCH 

> or Schoolgirls Among the Cowboys 

RUTH FIELDING ON CLIFF ISLAND 

i or The Old HunteFs Treasure Box ^ 

RUTH FIELDING AT SUNRISE FARM 

I or What Became of the Raby Orphans 

RUTH FIELDING AND THE GYPSIES 

or The Missing Pearl Necklace 

RUTH FIELDING IN MOVING PICTURES 

or Helping the Dormitory Fund 

RUTH FIELDING DOWN IN DIXIE 

or Great Days in the Land of Cotton i 

RUTH FIELDING AT COLLEGE 

or The Missing Examtnation Papers 

RUTH FIELDING IN THE SADDLE 

; or College Girls in the Land of Gold 

RUTH FIELDING IN THE RED CROSS 

f or Doing Her Bit for Uncle Sam 

RUTH FIELDING AT THE WAR FRONT 

or The Hunt for a Lost Soldier 

RUTH FIELDING HOMEWARD BOUND 

or A Red Cross Worker's Ocean Perils 

RUTH FIELDING DOWN EAST 

fs or The Hermit of Beach Plum Point 

RUTH FIELDING IN THE GREAT NORTHWEST 

or The Indian Girl Star of the Movies 


CUPPLES. & L EON^ C OMPANY, Publishers 



New York 


THE« BETTY GORDON, SERIES 

. By ALICE B. EMERSON 

Author of the Famous i*Ruth Fieldin^l Series / 

’ Cloih, ^ Illustrated. ^ Jacket in full colors 

Price per volume, 80 cents, postpaid 


A new series of stories by Alice B. Emer^\ 
son which are bound to make this writer more ! 
popular than ever with her host of girl readers.'' 
Everyone will want to know Betty Gordon and 
all will love her . , 


1. ^ BETTY GORDON AT BRAMBLE FARM 

or The Mystery of a Nobody 

' At the age of twelve Betty is left an orphan in the care of her 
bachelor uncle, who sends her to live on a farm. Betty finds life 
at Bramble Farm exceedingly hard. 

2. BETTY GORDON IN WASHINGTON 

or Strange Adventures in a Great City 

/ In this volume Betty goes to the national capitol to find her| 
uncle. She falls in with a number of strangers and has several un- 
usual adventures. 

3. BETTY GORDON IN THE LAND OF OIL 

or The Farm That Was Worth a Fortune 

From Washington the scene is shifted to the great oil fields of, 
our country. A splendid picture of the oil field operations of today.^ 

4. BETTY GORDON AT BOARDING SCHOOL 

or The Treasure of Indian Chasm 

An up-to-date tale of school life. Betty made many friends but a’ 
jealous girl tried to harm her. Seeking the treasure of Indian, 
Chasm makes an exceedingly interesting incident. 

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CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY. Publishers New York ' 

. . jt. A 





THE GIRL'^SCGUT SERIES 


By LILIAN GARIS 

12mo. Cloth. Illustrated, Jacket in full colors 

Price per volume, 80 cents, postpaid 


The highest ideals of girlhood as advocated 
by the foremost organizations of America 
form the background for these stories and 
while unobtrusive there is a message in every 
volume. 


1. THE GIRL SCOUT PIONEERS 

or Winning the Firsts. C. 

A story of the True Tred Troop in a Pennsylvania town where 
they find unlimited opportunity for good scouting. Two runaway 
iris, who want to see the city, are reclaimed through troop in- 
uence. The story is correct in scout detail, and also furnishes an 
absorbing narrative. 

2. THE GIRL SCOUTS AT BELLAIRE 

or Maid Mary's Awakening 

The story of a timid little maid who is afraid to take part in 
other girls' activities, while working nobly alone for high ideals. 
How she was discovered by the Bellaire Troop and came into her 
own as '‘Maid Mary” makes a fascinating story. 

3. THE GIRL SCOUTS AT SEA CREST 

\pr The Wig Wag Rescue 

Luna Land, a little island by the sea, is wrapt in a mysterious 
seclusion, and Kitty Scuttle, a grotesque figure, succeeds in keeping 
all others at bay until the Girl Scouts come. This volume furnishes 
a worth while story. 

4. THE GIRL SCOUTS AT CAMP COMALONG 

or Peg of Tamarack Hills 

A story of the great outdoors in which the girls of Bobolink 
Troop spend their summer on the shores of Lake Hocomo. Their 
discovery of Peg, the mysterious rider of the blue roan “Whirlwind,” 
and the clearing up of her remarkable adventures afford a whole- 
some and vigorous plot. 

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CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY, Publishers 


New York 


THE KHAKI GIRLS SERIES 

By EDNA BROOKS 

12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Jacket in full colors 
Price, per volume, 80 cents, postpaid 


How two young girls donned the khaki 
and made good in the Motor Corps, an 
organization for women developed by the 
Great War, forms a series of stories of sig- 
nal novelty and vivid interest and action, 

1. THE KHAKI GIRLS OF THE 
MOTOR CORPS 

or Finding Their Place in the Big War 

Joan Mason, an enthusiastic motor girl, and Valerie Warde, a 
society debutante, meet at an automobile show. They become 
friends and go together to the Motor Corps headquarters and in 
due time are accepted and become members of the Corps. 

2. THE KHAKI GIRLS BEHIND THE LINES 

or Driving with the Ambulance Corps 

As a result of their splendid work in the Motor Corps, the 
Khaki Girls receive an opportunity to drive with the Ambu- 
lance Corps in France. After a most eventful and hazardous 
crossing of the Atlantic, they arrive in France and are assigned 
to a station behind the lines. 

3. THE KHAKI GIRLS AT WINDSOR BARRACKS 

or ^‘Standing To** with the ^'Trusty Twenty** 

Joan Mason and Valerie Warde were in active service on 
errands of mercy with their comrades of the “Trusty Twenty.” 
Frequently they were “under cover” from a Boche air raid and 
hiding from the devastation of high explosives. 

4. THE KHAKI GIRLS IN VICTORY 

or Home With the Heroes 

When Joan and Valerie had ended their term of service, fol- 
lowing the signing of the Armistice, they were ordered back 
home. They had many anxious moments aboard a derelict follow- 
ing the disablement of the transport. 

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CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY, Publishers: 


New York 


THE CURLYTOPS SERIES 


By HOWARD R. GARIS 

Author of the famous "Bedtime Animal Stories" 

\2ino. Cloth, Illustrated. Jacket in full color 

Price per volume, 80 cents postpaid 


Stories for children by the best author of 
books for little people, 

1. THE CURLYTOPS AT CHERRY FARM 

or Vacation Days in the Country 

A tale of happy vacation days on a farm. 
The Curlytops have exciting adventures. 


2. THE CURLYTOPS ON STAR ISLAND 

or Camping out with Grandpa 

The Curlytops were delighted when grandpa took them to camp 
on Star Island. There they had great fun and a real mystery. 

3. THE CURLYTOPS SNOWED IN 

or Grand Fun with Skates and Sleds 

Winter was a jolly time for the Curlytops, with their skates and 
sleds, on the lakes and hills. 

4. THE CURLYTOPS AT UNCLEIFRANK’S RANCH 

or Little Folks on Pony Back 

Out West on their uncle’s ranch they have a wonderful time 
among the cowboys and on pony back. 

5. THE CURLYTOPS AT SILVER LAKE 

or On the Water with Uncle Ben 

The Curlytops camp out with Uncle Ben on the shores of a 
beautiful lake. 

6. THE CURLYTOPS AND THEIR PETS 

or Uncle Toby's Strange Collection 

When an old uncle leaves them to care for his collection of pets, 
they get up a circus for charity. 

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CUPPLES LEON COMPANY, Publishers 


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BROTHER AND SISTER SERIES 


BY JOSEPHINE LAWRENCE 


\2mo. Cloth,. Illustrated. Jacket in full colors 
Price per volume, 65 cents, postpaid 



Brother and Sister are two little folks who 
find every day packed full of interest and fun. 
They are the youngest of a large family of 
children and because they are so eager to do as 
the others do, Roddy and Betty sometimes 
tumble into a peck of mischief. 


These books will appeal especially to boys 
and girls from four to eight years old. 


1. BROTHER AND SISTER 


The story of a little boy and girl who are busy and happy all of 
the time and who make friends easily. They learn that some chil- 
dren have less of the good things than they and set out to help 
them in a most practical way. 

2. BROTHER AND SISTER’S SCHOOLDAYS 

Brother and Sister attend the Ridgeway public school where 
their little, poor friend Mickey Gaffney is also a pupil. Brother 
and Mickey try to find a missing gem which their teacher loses from \ i 
her ring which gets them into trouble with the janitor, but they 
succeed. 


3. BROTHER AND SISTER’S HOLIDAYS 


Thanksgiving Day at their grandmother’s house was lots of fun 
for Brother and Sister; also their Christmas time, when they helped 
the “poor people” for miles around. Lots of coasting, skating and 
outdoor fun come after Christmas. 


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CUPPLES LEON COMPANY, Publishers New York 







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